NO RIGHT ON RED

I knew I was going to be late to work this morning. I invoked the snooze sleep theft device because I had showered the night prior and needed only to select my day’s wardrobe from a mountain range of clean clothes that fills the canyon between my side of the bed and the west wall of the bedroom. Man I ain’t gonn’ lie. I don’t fold clothes. I step over them. I had been up with my son during the night and managed only that pseudo sleep as I gingerly rested in contorted positions trying not to wake that dude. But don’t trip. My clothes still wouldn’t have been folded even if my son slept all night. After feeling sorry for myself though, I rose.

I eventually ironed my clothes, dressed and headed to Martin Luther King High School, Home of the Wolves. Same ritual most days but today there was an accident on the 210 that slowed me up so I was utterly behind schedule and after realizing that I would be tardy, I radioed for help. I called our dear school secretary and asked if she could have someone cover my first period for 10-15 minutes until I arrived. She was down so I drove with a modicum of peace and no extreme urgency. That is, until I exited the freeway at Central.

It’s one of those “No right on Red” lights which behooves us and tempts us all at once. But I learned my lesson long ago about rolling those dice. Fat tickets do that to you when you send that check to the powers that be. But there was a driver behind me this morning who was anxious to turn. He stared, glared and darted onto my left flank to make the turn around me. I rolled down the window and mouthed, “No right on red man. Don’t do it.” I wasn’t being noble. I was being, well you know… I mean I think I was more obsessed with being right and by-the-book than saving a stranger some cash on a possible moving violation. At any rate, he looked at me trying to admonish and forewarn. With a scowl and no verbal reaction, he turned the corner despite the  red and was at another red light within seconds. I pulled up next to him. He still didn’t wanna chat. I guess sometimes you just wanna make that right on red no matter what the sign says. Who am I to suggest otherwise?