Bookends often match, but not always, as was the case with the following two incidents that occurred on the same recent afternoon. The first bookend was Impatience, the second Patience.
I was third in line at a traffic light and when it turned green the car at the front did not take off like a drag racer so the driver in the car directly behind it honked. While rudely impatient, it was at least a polite single tap – beep! – as in: “Hey, look up from reading your texts and please go.”
The front car did not go.
A count of perhaps “one Mississippi, two Mississippi” passed before the second car honked again, twice, longer – beeeep-beeeep! – expressing growing agitation, like: “Come on, pal, it ain’t gonna get any greener!”
Still the front car remained stationary.
One more “Mississippi” passed and BEEEEEEP! PG-13 translation: “Come on, knucklehead! Wake the heck up! I don’t want to sit through another long red light because of you! Go already, go, Go, GO!”
By now I was muttering R-rated complaints at the front driver.
At long last, the front car started to move at a tortoise’s pace and about three angry heartbeats later the second car abruptly changed lanes and with a loud gunning of its engine bolted ahead like a high-octane dragster.
Now I was behind the slow-pokey car, but surprisingly it was the speedy racer I cursed silently with contempt. You see, displayed on the back of the front car was a bright yellow sticker the size of a dinner placemat and impossible to miss: “STUDENT DRIVER / Please be Patient.”
Arriving at my destination, having empathetically proceeded in no rush, I soon witnessed a remarkable display of patience and Good Samaritanship (that’s not a word, but should be). On one of my loops running around the soccer fields at the Ventura Community Park at Kimball Road, a middle-aged man stopped me and pointed towards the south parking lot.
“Is that your car?” he asked.
“No,” I said, adding curiously: “Why?”
Mr. Good Samaritan had found an electronic key fob and was trying to locate its owner. This was proving to be no small task for the key fob had been lost next to the sidewalk that runs the full perimeter of the park.
Specifically, Mr. Good Samaritan found it on the other side of the park about as far from the parking lots as can be. He could have left the fob where it was, hoping the owner would retrace his or her steps and find it. The problem was, the encircling sidewalk is 1.25-miles long making it almost a needle-in-a-haystack search.
Instead, he picked up the fob and started asking every adult walker, runner, dog owner and rollerblader he saw if it was theirs. Failing at this, Mr. Good Samaritan wisely figured that locating the car might help him find its owner upon return. He thus began pressing the “unlock” button while listening for a high-pitched beep.
Coming up empty in the north lot near the aquatics center, he next tried the south one and finally found the winning SUV. Stationed here he patiently continued his search for the owner with no success.
An hour, at least, after most people would have given up, Mr. Samaritan left a note on the windshield explaining he was leaving the key fob inside at the swimming complex.
I will tell you this: If I ever lose my car key, I know whom I want to find it.
By the way, when I finished my run the SUV was happily gone.
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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.
Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com