F'n Rad Road Ragers
Back when I taught yoga, I was driving through the hilly streets, cruisin’ along nice and slow (okay, I was speeding and late as usual), listening to a new yoga CD my buddy sent me from L.A., testing it out (always good to test out yoga music before using it in class…I learned that lesson the hard way. One time I accidentally started a class with Led Zeppelin). Anyway, so I was getting my serenity on, when I looked to my left and there, at a stop light, two cars were running, but both were still sitting there when the light turned green. Very suspicious…
A gargantuan, terrifying, well-toned, enraged Big Man jumped out of the second car, and he half-leaped right up to the window of the first car. Leaning in, he put his face right in front of the skinny, young Kid in the first car. Then the Big Man screamed, “I’m gonna kill you, mother! I’m gonna skin you. Woohoo! I’m gonna fuckin' kill you!”
I’m not sure why he wanted to kill the Kid, but the “Woohoo” made it all the more ultra creepy. And all in all, it made for incredibly interesting background noise to my yoga music. Ah, the serene sounds of the streets of home. Wide-eyed, tuning in, I thought, What if we created yoga hard core street music? It would sound something like this: “Om, shanti, I’m goin ta kill you mofo, skin you alive. Peace, Peace.” Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bestseller, but if you can hold a tree pose or handstand to “I’m goin ta skin you alive,” then dayum, you are one crazy spiritual human, if you ask me, and you don’t even need to be doing yoga. Fly right on outta earth, because you should be catapulted to planet heaven or some shit, as far as I’m concerned.
Now here’s the ridiculous part. The wimpy-looking Kid was yelling back.
Dear Kid, I have some news for you. Big Man wanted to skin you alive, kill you, and he meant it, and he was enormous, and he could easily flatten your ass. The only reason he didn’t was because his wife begged him to calm down, and it took some work. But if the Big Man felt so inclined, we’re talking messy steamroller action here. So Kid, it would’ve been a good idea for you to just sit in your car and cry, bro. I mean, not just tear up, but really cry -- blubbery and snotty and shit. Or at least apologize for whatever stupid thing you did before the light changed. Just sayin. Because, here we had a case of this...
versus this:
I would’ve sucked it up, if I were the wimpy Kid. I mean, I’m one tough person for real, and I’ve been known to stand up for myself in some ridiculous scenarios on the streets, but holy crap, I’m no dumbass, and if that Big Man screamed that shit at me, I don’t care how pissed I was, I’d be offering to wash his car and give him cookies. I mean, there’s a time to talk back, but there’s also a time to be smart and suck it up and kiss the scary Big Man's ass and buy him a choco malt or some cookie dough ice cream with sprinkles and take him on over to the auto-car wash and soap suds up his SUV and dry that fucker with a goddamn Kleenex.
Woohoo,
C.A. MacConnell
💞💞💞💞💞
