Story 12: How A Slow Driver Nearly Caused My Heart To Stop

            
             Long Island, the name, sounds so tranquil, but don’t be fooled, because road rage can happen anywhere. In this case, it was mostly my fault. As usual, I was driving back from one of my Hebrew School gigs at night during the summer of 94’, and was in a bit of a rush.  I drove onto the north bound ramp of the Meadowbrook Parkway a bit too quickly.  

The driver ahead of me seemed to be driving very slow, so I flicked my brights at him several times to signal my displeasure, and to encourage him to drive faster. When he didn’t speed up, I attempted to pass him on the left as we got onto the highway.

The driver of the other car was obviously angry because as I went to drive past him on the left, he moved his car from the middle lane to the left to block me. Upset, I attempted to pass him on the right. So what did he do? He pulled his car to the right to block me again. It was at this point that I seethed with anger and revenge scenarios raced through my brain. What would you have done in that situation?

     I Imagined ramming him in the back, or perhaps side-swiping him causing him to fishtail. Or maybe throw bombs at his car as I got closer just like Mad Max might have done in the Australian outback.  I don’t know where I was going to get some bombs, but I still wanted to retaliate against him, but I thought to myself, “Is this really worth dying over?” I decided that it wasn’t, and after a few seconds I slowed my car down and let him drive away unharmed. He may have won the battle, but I ended winning the war with myself. In the long run, that was more important to me, because you can win a battle, and still lose your life.

 Life Lesson Twelve: When we get angry a very primitive part of our brain takes over and rational thought often goes out the window. So, if you find yourself getting angry, take a few moments to gather yourself maybe count to ten or take a few relaxing breaths, and after that when you look at the situation it may have different meaning, or you may be in a better frame of mind to handle it.  Also remember that “Emotions are neither good nor bad, but it’s what we do with them that matters.” Try to make a healthier choice when you can, your family will thank you, and so might your car.

Story 11: Holy Cannoli

A few years ago, I was driving my car in Corona, New York when all of a sudden my allergies started acting up, and I desperately needed a tissue. Fortunately for me, I always drive with a tissue box in my car. Without looking, I put my hand into the vertical box. Getting a tissue is usually a no-brainer, but after I found the box empty that’s when I

got into trouble.  

Not only were there no more tissues, but when I tried take my hand out, I realized that my hand was stuck.

     The car was traveling forty miles an hour, and I was on a fairly crowded side street.  I tried shaking my hand, but the box wouldn’t budge. I tried steering with one hand, turning the wheel with the tissue box, but nothing worked to dislodge it. It was at that moment that I had an epiphany. I put my foot on the brake, stuck my imprisoned hand under my armpit, and after a brief tug pulled my hand out.  I sighed with relief, but felt spent.

You would think that I would have learned my lesson, but a few months later I found myself back in Corona again and lightning struck twice. I picked up some chocolate mini cannoli’s from a store called Mama’s and some ices from Lemon Ice King, and proceeded to drive home. After a few minutes, my stomach started to growl. I should wait till I get home I thought, but as my stomach growled a few more times, I reasoned, I could just eat one. But as we all know one always leads to two, and so I devoured the delicious pastries, and before I knew it they were almost all gone.

The cannoli’s were tightly packed in a plastic clam shell case, but I was able to squeeze my hand in to get them though a small opening in the box. I ate five of the six cannoli’s, but the last one eluded me and required extra effort. I decided to go for the last one and squeezed my hand into the back of the box, but unfortunately my hand got stuck in the box again like a bear’s paw in a trap.

“Crap, not again.” I yelled.

I didn’t want to die because of a cannoli, so I started to shake my hand harder and harder until finally the box flew off and landed on the floor.

“Thank God.” I breathed, I smiled in triumph, and with a flourish ate the last cannoli.

Life Lesson Eleven: From the experience it made me realize how precious life is, how important it is to be careful while driving, to never multi-task behind the wheel, and when faced with a problem while driving or elsewhere, I should remember to “Think outside the box.” and keep your hands out of them too.

Story 10: Dad Saves the Day

         Several years ago when I was but a child, we were once again returning home from the Catskills to Long Island in the Rambler, when the car started to overheat. My father pulled over to the side of the road, and looked under the hood. Billows of white smoke were coming from underneath. I saw him talking to himself as he often did, and as I often still do today.

“We have a problem.” He muttered similar to what the astronauts purportedly told NASA mission control in Houston.  Both were important issues, but the bottom line is how do we get home?

“Kids,” My father stated “I need you to look in the car for some water.”

So off we excitedly went looking under every cushion, nook, cranny, pennies went flying, it was like a scavenger hunt, but unfortunately we couldn’t find any water. Blame it on all the empty bags of potato chips.

“Sorry.” we said collectively.

It was then that my father had an epiphany.

“I have an idea.” He declared proudly. Now, when my father had an idea it was usually a good one. He was the kind of man who when he saw a problem, he would develop a creative solution, and work tirelessly to fix it. For example, He encouraged our town to fix a hole in a fence by the train to prevent people from wandering onto the tracks, and also pushed for lights to be placed in a local park’s parking lot so people, especially seniors, could see where they are going at night after  summer concerts.  It is for these reasons that I feel I have developed his creative problem solving trait, and a strong desire to help others too.

“Aha!” my father yelled out as he reached into the trunk of the car.

“You found some water?” my mother asked expectantly.

“No, but I think this will work just the same.” He replied, and then triumphantly held up a full container of pure Mott’s apple juice.  He held it up with such pride you would think it was a new baby fresh from the delivery room, instead of  a plastic gallon jug from Waldbaums.

“I think this should work.” He beamed.

And that’s what he did. After letting the engine cool a bit, he poured the juice into the radiator, and surprisingly it worked like a charm. We made it back to Long Island, all of us smelling like apples the whole ride home.

Life Lesson Ten: What I learned from my father is that when dealing with problems we need to be persistent, think outside the box, and remember that some boxes, like juice boxes, are sometimes all that we need to get us where we need to go in life.

Story 9: Hippies, Woodstock, and a Cautious Driver

 
        Since the 1950’s families have enjoyed summers in the Catskill mountains of New York. People often stayed at bungalow colonies similar to the ones portrayed in the film Dirty Dancing, as a way to escape the heat.  It certainly is better than sleeping on fire escapes, rooftops, or even cemeteries which my parents and their friends sometime did before the age of air conditioners.

In the late 1970‘s the whole family: My parents, four kids, luggage, kosher food, and the family dog were packed into our Rambler station wagon for a 3 hour trip back to our home base on Long Island.  While driving past Saugerties, New York (The home of the Woodstock Festival) my father spotted three hippies, two women and a man, hitchhiking.

“Morty, why don’t you pick them up?” My mother suggested.  We later learned that one or perhaps all of them needed some urgent medical attention. We should have known something was amiss. Even the dog growled.

My father agreed to pick them up because he was the kind of guy to help others, and the fact that they were two women and only one man made them less of a threat he reasoned. It was also a less dangerous time back then. However, after a half hour of driving, my father changed his mind when he smelled a strange sweet aroma coming from the back of the car.

“Natalie, do you smell something?” He asked. 

It was then that he realized that marijuana smoke was coming from the back of the station wagon, a la Cheech and Chong.

“Are you actually smoking in here in front of our kids?” my father questioned.

“Dude, chill out this is our medication” they answered with a laugh.

“Well, I don’t find it funny at all, and the pharmacy is now closed.” My father replied. After saying his peace he pulled the car over abruptly and told them to get out.

Life Lesson Nine: I never learned if my parents ever smoked themselves, but I know some of my siblings have in the past, and I have often wondered if I would have handled the hippie incident in the same way. A few things I do know.  I never pick up hitchhikers or smoke weed, and while I generally live by the golden rule, I know that if people are disrespectful, some rules like bad habits such as smoking, are meant to be broken.

Story 8: Hot Times in the Holy Land

 

        They say that some things are the spice of life. Well, occasionally they can also be too spicy.  Two examples in particular stand out in my mind. One took place in Israel and the other one in America.

In 1988 I was a student at Tel Aviv University.  One of my favorite classes was Kibbutz 101 which had one great perk. Free lunch once a week.  It was pretty healthy too and included lots of vegetables.  Just the right class for a student on a budget.

 A few weeks into the term, I was having lunch with a some of my friends, when I started eating what I thought was Hezliah or babaganouch for the laymen (eggplant salad). But I was wrong, horribly wrong.  It wasn’t eggplant but rather Harif (hot pepper) Now Israelis like things spicy, but I like to know when it’s coming.  My mouth felt like it was on fire, and I started downing water as if I had just come from a day in the Sinai Desert, but my friend said,

“No, water only makes it worse.”

I looked around helplessly until he gave me cottage cheese.  So, without hesitation I started to pound the cottage cheese like I was doing jello shots, and you know what it actually made me feel better immediately.

You would have thought I had learned a lesson, but years later I was at a former girlfriend’s father’s birthday party. They had sushi, and if you knew me you would know that I am a big sushi lover.  I saw guacamole in an avocado.

“How clever." I thought to myself. but really I wasn’t, because it wasn't guacamole but rather wasabi mustard.  I ate a huge piece of fish covered in green mustard and the world started to spin again.

“Not again.” I gasped.

Japanese people are usually lactose intolerant so unfortunately there was no cheese in sight. Looking around quickly I fortunately found a bowl of brown rice, and swallowed the whole dish like a bird swallowing a grouper.

My girlfriend came over and stared, “Are you ok?” She asked.

“Fine.”  I replied, but she seemed unconvinced. Eventually I recovered, but from then on whenever I eat something new I always ask questions about how spicy it is.  Although local people are inconsistent in answering whether it is really spicy or not.  What they think is mild frequently isn't. ex. Thai food.

Life Lesson Eight: If they had a fortune cookie at the meal, even though it was Japanese, it might have said:   Those who ignore the lessons of history are destined for their food to repeat on them, and  sometimes it will end up on the floor. I guess mistakes are what makes us human, but when it comes to to making food choices, remember to always choose wisely.