Monday, May 16, 2016

The Treats of Driving to the Veterans Administration Hospital

The first treat is the I-20 Idiot Driver Contest and this one applies to passenger vehicles and semi-trailers as well as likely you could get more sensible behavior if the cars were piloted by gibbering monkeys.

Whenever you see a pick-up truck with four rear wheels, keep an eye on those ones as drivers are often young and working on the Earn a Penis Boy Scout merit badge.  For the ones on I-20 most likely to act like complete assholes, they're almost always your best pick.

Sometimes Yevette will backseat drive me and we have had the conversation multiple times, remarkably without shouting, screaming, or any of the other delights of incompetent politicians.  I have not yet used by best line, "Yevette, you know I'm not from Texas.  I was actually taught to watch the road and my surroundings while I drive."

Yevette can validate I do nothing about idiot drivers except to try to remain undead but this one comes straight from my ol' Dad:  there will be an annoyed announcement of AMATEURS!  That was his ultimate dismissal: if you were an amateur then you are nonspecific unnecessary protoplasm; you aren't the baby but whatever was left over; consider spending the rest of your miserable and worthless life eating tree bark.

That one is typically complemented by the a less agitated announcement to the road, "Y'll be cool and I'll be cool and we will drive at cool speeds all the way to Dallas and we will do it in a cool way ... because we're cool.

That is fantasy.  It hasn't happened yet.  AMATEURS!


Another treat in driving to the VA Hospital is all the American flags on the way and really huge ones. They have nothing to do with the Hospital but rather with retail automobile dealerships.  When you ask about patriotism in Texas, they will tell you in terms of miles per gallon.


Then everything changes and the world of superficial realities and deluded fantasies about the country disappear where everyone is everyone just like it always was before things started going bad.  No-one has to ask anything as your presence there says it already.  No-one wears rank or even implies it.

Military doctors are usually captains or majors in uniform but all of the doctors I have met, to the last one, have been the most unaffected medical people I have ever known except extremely rare civilian exceptions with this lack of affectation as in VA doctors.  Nobody pretends anything out there and it's one of the few sources of sanity and respite from an insane world.

Everyone out there knows no-one else would be there if all of us were not in deep trouble so there's an implied brotherhood / sisterhood and it's one of the few places I have ever been where what you are means almost nothing.  Gunfire or the threat of it means such mean-spirited concerns become tiny in the face of the real concerns of life.

It's horrible out there in what you face and you wouldn't be there if something did not massively suck but the manner of everyone is beautiful.  The peace in a place in which no-one has any kind of an attitude on anyone else is unique for me.  It's remarkable every time as no limitations exist between people because your presence alone out there means you are in.  It's an exceptional feeling and is a horror and a strong goodness at the same time.

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