Is it just me or is the milk of human kindness in short supply these days?
Or has it always been in short supply and I was — or still am — just too stupid or naïve to notice the volume of the supply is lacking?
I hope I’m wrong. I hope there’s more and more of that milk around, more than there used to be. I hope more and more folks take the time, most often just a moment or two, to do the right thing. But the more birthdays I have the more random acts of unkindness I see. So, could it just be that I’m too often in the wrong place then?
Granted, this hurry-up fast-paced “get yours while you can and don’t worry about anybody else” world can do that to you. But let me go on record as saying I don’t like it and that in my humble opinion it is not a good thing for man or beast.
For instance, why do some folks either just stare at you or not even bother to do that when you step aside and hold the door for them? What ever happened to “Hello” or “Good morning” or even “Thank you” or just “Thanks”?
I know. Maybe they’re having a bad day or their grandma just died or something, but does that excuse not acknowledging another human being is in your presence? I put forth that question once in a group discussion and someone berated me with a question of their own, namely: “Why are you holding the door in the first place? Is it so they’ll thank you?”
The answer to that is, “No, that’s not the reason.” The reason I do that is because my mama and daddy reared me and my brothers to do that — and other similar things — for another human, regardless of their age, race, sex, beauty, lack of or anything else. It is, they said, the right thing to do.
Now before someone says I must think I’m pretty special or just the greatest thing going or ain’t that just grand about my mama, let me go on to say I’m pretty sure many other folks were similarly reared. I’m just not seeing them that much these days.
You knew there had to be something that launched this tirade, didn’t you? Actually, there are two.
One has to do with when you’re trying to merge into traffic and there are two lanes and all the traffic is in the one closest to you and folks will die at the wheel before they realize all they have to do is pull over to the other lane and you both can travel on.
In a nod to the ancient days when I took driver’s training, our instructor told us it was really important to pay attention to the world around you when driving. He told us we shouldn’t be combing our hair or applying lipstick or sending text messages ... oh, wait, sorry, no cell phones then. At any rate, he told us to pay attention and to watch what other drivers were doing.
Truthfully, I can live with that one because, in spite of my ramblings, there have been times I have not pulled over myself. Not many because I do pay attention to that but, in the spirit of honesty, I must admit there have been some. I have been so preoccupied with my thoughts or singing along with Levi Stubbs and the Four Tops on “Baby, I Need Your Lovin’” that I wasn’t paying attention to other traffic, which our driver training instructor also said was something we should do.
The other case in point of the absence of kindness or common decency or whatever word(s) you like has to do with drivers who love their horns and can’t wait to lean on them for extended periods of time.
Not so long ago, I was parked on the main street of my little hometown. I’d conducted some business and made my way back to my ride. I was parked in the end space of a line, next to a traffic light which I couldn’t see because it was hidden from view because of the shape of my vehicle. So, I watched the traffic flow and when the line of cars going the way I wanted to go stopped for a red light I began easing out, watching all around.
Apparently, Richard Petty or A.J. Foyt has moved to Pittsboro because in a nano-second a driver had zoomed up the side street, made a quick turn and wound up on — and almost in — my bumper as I was two-thirds out of the space. I’m pretty sure the back up lights on my ride work and if Mr. NASCAR had been watching he could have seen them go out as I worked the shifter to pull back in since it was obvious he wasn’t going to let me out.
I don’t know why he was in a hurry. Maybe the doughnut light had just come on at Krispy Kreme. Maybe his wife was in the car about to give birth to triplets. Maybe his wife had just hollered at him because she was in the car. Maybe he loves his horn. Maybe he’s just not nice.
What I do know is the horn on his ride works because he let me hear it loud and long, preferring to let the world, or at least that part around us, know how I had insulted him by daring to get into his space — never mind that he wasn’t there just a moment before — rather than take the same amount of time to let me out that was required to sound off his horn.
And in that same spirit of honesty I spoke of earlier, let me tell you two things happened from that brief encounter. Number one is that the entire incident instantly registered about an 8.75 on my 10 scale of anger, mainly because it was unnecessary.
And secondly, noticing as he went by that his passenger window was down, I reverted to another random act of kindness mentioned earlier — I thanked him for his kindness.
Really, I did. I said, “Thank you.”
Now that’s as far as it went. I did not question his ancestry or swear at him or invent any new words, use a sailor’s vocabulary or show him any hand gestures. I just said, “Thank you” so he could hear it.
But I’m thinking the entire time: why not take just a moment and extend an act of kindness to another human rather than sit down on your vehicle horn for as long as you could hold it? I wonder if he would like it if I laid down on my horn if I’m ever five feet from his ear.
So, be on the lookout, friends: find a random act of kindness somewhere and do it.
Someone may thank you for it.
Bob Wachs is a native of Chatham County and retired long-time managing editor of the Chatham News/Chatham Record, having written a weekly column for more than 30 years. During most of his time with the newspapers, he was also a bi-vocational pastor and today serves Bear Creek Baptist Church for the second time as pastor.
