The traffic is moving fairly quickly when the person ahead of me decides to make a lane change. He signals, as he is supposed to do, but is clearly blind to the fact I am in the space he now wants to occupy.
I do what any good driver does. I hit the horn repeatedly like I am giving it CPR and yell a few expletives that only I can hear.
The driver quickly swerves back to his rightful lane and I now do what all male drivers must instinctively do-I speed up until I am even with the perp (sorry that is code for perpetrator) so I can perform my angry mime routine.
All perps are subjected to the same routine. I mime out a three part act that is carefully scripted. First, I demonstrate basic anatomy to show the driver how the head can actually swivel on that thing doctors refer to as a neck. I call this move the Linda Blair.
Second, I make reference to the two orbital sockets in their skull commonly referred to as the eyes and use both hands to show how they must be WIDE open when driving (this takes some skill because I must now steer the car with my knee).
I conclude the show with something I call, “Give your freakin’ head a shake.” This requires considerable talent and is not recommended for those who have no mime training at all.
(Note: While I do not have any specific training as a mime, I once watched one on TV thus making me an expert.)
Using grand gestures, I tap my skull with my finger 3 times in a woodpecker-like fashion. If done correctly you should hear a sound much like you would hear when knocking on a wall which has a secret hallowed out compartment behind it (at least that is what it sounds like in my head).
I then place both hands on either side of my cranium and pretend I have “popped” it off my shoulders. I then shake my pretend popped off head like a toddler with their piggy bank. In order to hurt the driver sufficiently here and send a strong message that will forever make them a better driver, it is important to have a disappointed look on your face much like a toddler would have when they discover their piggy bank is empty.
As I pull even and get ready to launch my “How to be a better driver” show, the driver of the other vehicle launches into his own mime routine first. I have been quickly relegated to the second act. I am being beaten at my own game. Damn it! I am being out-mimed.
I decide to give him his stage time. I figure even the Rolling Stones have someone who opens for them before they come out. I reason that the first act is never better than the headliner. In fact, they usually suck.
I’m literally on the edge of my seat in anticipation of the backlash that is surely coming my way. Clearly this guy is going to mime out his lame act and indicate why this was all my fault.
But strangely, that does not happen. His act is very simple; in fact it is elegant, a thing of beauty.
He turns, smiles sincerely, and mouths the words, “I’m sorry.”
“You son of a bitch,” I think. The road rage portion of my brain sends me a message indicating the Rolling Stones have canceled their concert.
I laugh and wave a hand as if to say, ” No problem” and then mouth the words, “No worries. It happens to all of us. In fact, last week I did it 3 times in span of 15 minutes.”
He looks confused. And while he is no longer miming, everything about his demeanor is saying, “Huh!” I think my sentence might have been too long. I simply mouth, “No problem.” He smiles graciously.
I smile back, give a little wave of the hand which looks eerily like something I would do if I was the queen of England and speed on past.
But it got me thinking. It is amazing what the power of a smile can do? What would happen if we stopped muzzling our smile and actually began to tap into and harness the power of it instead.
Hmm! Quit muzzling our smile.
Now that is an idea worth quitting,
Dean
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