Once Idalia left, a flotilla of golf carts arrived.
I think that’s right, but maybe it was a ga-ring or garaggle.
There were LOTS of tourists in town for Labor Day weekend – each appearing to have rented a golf cart. Or three.
Nothing against golf carts -when golfing, they eliminate the health benefits of walking and accelerate to catch the beverage cart – but I’ve never thought “My Captor and I need a golf cart”.
Fortunately, neither has she.
Nothing against tourists, just wish they knew how great visiting Tybee Island was.
Golf carts – and tourists – are complicated: Necessary evils for tourist destinations.
But there are GC courtesy protocols, which most locals follow, the most important moving over to let cars stacked up behind you pass.
And showing no emotion when drivers speeding by flip you off.
There are others – equally obvious, equally ignored at times – such as: Don’t drive while holding a newborn, Don’t let your 11 year-old drive while holding a newborn, and the Wave is never appropriate.
But tourists are flagrant protocol violators.
So, headed to Sunday dinner, the flotilla had me headed for an Old Man Rant, when I noticed how much fun they were having.
Now, there are friends and family who derive pleasure from ‘pissing Jim off’, but they weren’t having that kind of fun – they were having “Family vacation fun, the stuff of which memories are made”.
And it (re)occurred to me there are 2 sides to every story: While I was the old guy in the car behind photo-bombing with an impatient scowl, they were having vacation fun.
Renting a golf cart ain’t cheap, so these hobos were all in.
As so often happens with life lessons, my Mother was right: “Jimmy Pete, you can’t understand others until you walk a mile in their PF Flyers”.
Or paraphrasing, “Drive a mile in their f*ing Golf Cart” (Shakes Fist Angrily!)
So Mom, it’s a ‘consider what the other guy’s thinking’ thing?
Which is not only exhausting – I just wanna care about what I think – but an underused muscle for most of us.
As a society, we’re much better at sympathy than empathy.
It’s relatively easy to be sympathetic – secretly thankful we don’t have the same problem – but empathy involves working to understand others.
As Mom added: “How are you? is a rhetorical question, unfortunately.”
But like so many lessons that make me a better person, I tried to forget it.
And then may have over-applied the lesson.
I ‘friendly wave’ at fellow beach walkers, mouthing “Good Morning” to some – my ear buds to discourage ‘stranger conversations’.
While My Captor walks, waves and talks – ‘Queen of the Beach’ – and I imagine other’s shock upon learning we ‘go together’…
But I began asking other walkers: “How are you? No really, how are you?”
Leading them to speed away.
Next was ‘gesture empathy’, tailoring my beach greeting based on what I sensed others were feeling/needing, alternating between a simple wave and 3-finger ‘love heart’.
Unfortunately, I think I screwed that last thing up, based upon angry looks and occasional “Same to You!”s.
But today I almost went full sympathy, with a side of possible empathy.
Running Man/Stopping Dog – SD stopping mid-way waiting for RM’s return – was Just Running Man today. I actually removed my ear buds to inquire about SD: “Back soon- just a bad claw”.
Crisis averted – ear buds reinserted.
But after my failed attempts at human connection, Mom’s advice rang true: ‘Empathy’s tough – it’s hard work understanding other’s problems’.
Maybe too hard.
But enough about me, how are you?
For 184 more posts like this –each with a wish for faster golf carts – go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.
Or send me an email to the site, and I’ll add you to my Sunday distribution.
TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:
If Labor Day is the unofficial end of summer, then John Prine’s Summer’s End should have been the Labor Day song choice. An unfortunate clerical error – corrected below.
But it made me reflect on the greatness that was Prine, who had a way with a phrase (“I knew that topless dancer had something up her sleeve” among thousands others). I saw him in Evanston, IL in 1976 opening for Steve Goodman, and for the last time at the Ryman, where Saddle In The Rain was just about the best live thing I’ve ever heard.
Summer’s End John Prine
Summer’s end is around the bend just flying
The swimming suits are on the line just drying
I’ll meet you there per our conversation
I hope I didn’t ruin your whole vacation
Well you never know how far from home you’re feeling
Until you watch the shadows cross the ceiling
Well I don’t know but I can see it snowing
In your car the windows are wide open
Come on home
No you don’t have to be alone
Just come on home
Valentines break hearts and minds at random
That ol’ Easter egg ain’t got a leg to stand on
Well I can see that you can’t win for trying
And New Year’s Eve is bound to leave you crying
The moon and stars hang out in bars just talking
I still love that picture of us walking
Just like that ol’ house we thought was haunted
Summer’s end came faster than we wanted
Come on home
No you don’t have to be alone
Come on home