You Take Your Life In Your Own Hands

I worry. I know I shouldn’t. I know, once upon a time, I wouldn’t have. But the more bear walks with his Rolator (and he walks with it nearly every day, six miles a day) the more I worry. He tells me what happens during his walks. He laughs and takes it lightly but I worry. The more he laughs and I worry, the more that I hate people.

People see him walking, while they are driving and coming out of the side streets, and they floor it, nearly wrecking in a lot of cases, in an effort to not have to wait the 45 seconds that it will take him to pass in front of them. I worry that he will get hit because he is taking up everyone’s valuable time by walking. I would love to mount the GoPro on his rollator and turn in the idiots who go out of their way to run red lights, chance wrecks and often nearly hitting him in the effort to get on with their busy busy lives.

It’s sad that people don’t realize, they don’t take into account that (if they are lucky) they will be old some day too, they will need to have someone give a shit about them.  I hate to have the thought run through my head but I really hope they have to struggle with assholes not letting them cross the street even when they have the walk sign giving them the right of way.  And I hope with all of my heart that when it happens (because.. you know… Karma… ) they have the presence of mind to remember that they were the ones who nearly ran over people when they were the ones who are too impatient to allow someone the ENTIRE 30 or (gasp) 45 seconds that the WALK sign stays lit.




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