Interesting irony.

I was sitting in traffic earlier this week, heading into town, when I heard the snarl of an engine behind me. Shortly after the snarl, a very souped-up (I think I just dated myself with that term, but I don't know what the kids are calling it these days*) Nissan 350Z sped past me.

And stopped.

Then, a little crack opened up, and it sped past the next car.

And stopped.

I was both sympathetic and judgmental. Yeah, I'll say it. I was judging. Why have a car like that and use it to commute? Talk about setting yourself up for some major frustration. The sympathy won in the end, though, because I realized a lot of life is the same way. We have these engines inside us, propelling us toward a goal, and then we have to stop, because someone or something gets in the way.

But for those brief moments when we can really open it up, it sure feels good, doesn't it?

Yeah. It does.

* Actually, I think I do know, but it's almost certainly offensive to someone. Perhaps even me.

Comments

[Motown]

So I feel both dated because I don't know the term and immature because I'm extra-curious because it's offensive.

[Erin K. Rice]

"Motown"?

You commented on my blog. I'm so happy.