To the elderly gentleman seen on my drive home,
Sir, you are a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma (to paraphrase Churchill).
Your hair is white. Not gray. Not silver, but that dingy white that makes one think of yellowed old bone.
Despite the color, you have that odd youthful haircut that no one can miss. Maybe you think it reminds people of the Beatles. It made me think of Moe Howard of the Three Stooges.
You drove for most of ten miles with your right blinker on.
Yet you drove like a young bobsledder, seemingly immortal as you were weaving in and out of traffic, going so far as to straddle two lanes for long stretches as you decided which side would give you an advantage measured in seconds. Bonus points for using your turn signal, even though it was only correct half the time.
Finally, a word about your car. The Scion isn't cool. It looks like the box a Mini-Cooper came in.Posted by Ted at June 16, 2006 04:19 PM | TrackBack