The Kindness of Strangers

On my way home from work tonight, my car made this horrible noise and then there was the sound of rushing air.  My first thought was 'Great; another flat', but having had a blow-out (or two), the ease of steering told me that wasn't the issue.  A quick look at my gauges said it wasn't engine-related either.

Fortunately, I was close to the Strawberry Plains exit and could make a hasty escape off the interstate.  I pulled into a BP and did a quick check.  Tires looked okay.  Car seemed fine.  But in the front, there was a piece of plastic-some sort of cover-hanging down.  While I deemed it nonessential to operating the car, I knew it wasn't wise to get back on the interstate.

Enter Weldon.  He pulled up beside me.  "You got some trouble?"
"Yeah," I said.  "This thing," I pointed at the cover.
"Let me see if I can help".  He crawled underneath the car as best he could.  Long story, short: Weldon was able to rig the cover back into place, at least until I can get it to a proper service station.

What's remarkable about this story as that, with more than an hour's commute ahead of him, Weldon was doing this in the pouring rain and driving wind for someone he did not know.  And he made me get back in the car so I wouldn't get wet.

"I don't know how I could re-pay you," I said, doing my best Blanche Du Bois impression.
"PAY me?" Weldon said.  "You don't need to pay me.  You just need to do two things: you need to slow down and next time you see somebody who needs help and you can help 'em, help 'em."
And with that, he patted me on my soggy shoulder with his water-logged hand and got back in his car.

I get the feeling that Weldon does this kind of thing a lot.  I get the feeling that we all should.

Edward Cullen and 'This'

I haven't thought of him in years, but once the Twilight movies hit, I found myself thinking of him quite frequently.  The film character of Edward Cullen reminds me very much of an ex-boyfriend.  I don't really remember exactly what he looked like, but every time I see an ad for the film, I think of him--incredibly handsome and cold.  

It was a case of opposites attract.  I should have known it would never work out when I went to his condo for the first time-white carpet, white couch, professionally framed photographs on the wall, monogrammed hand towels in the bathroom, everything perfectly placed.

"Do you have a maid," I asked.

"No."

"Did your mother stop by today?"

"No."

I should have made for the door that instant, but I didn't--because on the surface he was everything a woman would want in a mate.  Reputable family, career-driven, impeccably dressed, athletically built, up-standing citizen... and hot.  But cold.  

It finally ended--spectacularly--one evening at dinner.  Let's just put it this way: my tolerance for people who judge other people based on their race, religion or sexual preference is low.  My defense of people's rights to be judged on their own merit-and not on a stereotype-is, uh, well, loud.  And "Edward's" tolerance for a screaming girlfriend in the middle of Copper Cellar was decidedly low.  He got up and walked out, leaving me to pay the tab and find a way home.  Neither of us ever looked back.  

But one thing he said to me has stuck for nearly 20 years now.  He said "You are better than this."

Better than what?  Better than the life I was living then?  

As I look around, I see books stacked high, paint jars and brushes clutter tables, three dogs asleep on the floor and I hear music being made down the hall, in a house that's falling down as fast as we can prop it up-a house that's filled with chaos and laughter, warm with the smell of coffee and cinnamon.  I see a yard with daffodils in the Spring and weeds in the Summer with neighbors who meet on porches, enjoy each other's company and do things for each other.  I see a job I love going to every day with people who care about what they do.  I see a family and friends who love me just the way I am.  I see a life filled with ups & downs, emotional turmoil and euphoria.

Better than what?

Better than this?

I don't think so.