a moment of silence for the F word

I rarely say the F word anymore. I formerly used it as a somewhat regular staple in my language when I couldn't exaggerate any further and had to result to some cursing as a way of making my point. Some of it has been because it practically makes Chris's ears bleed and because he is so typically my audience, I don't want a bleeding ear boyfriend, so I just stop. But more so, in the last 3 or 4 years, I've seemingly grown less tolerate of things too loud, too violent, too haphazard and too casual, I've stopped swearing all together. Just a product of growing older, perhaps. There are times, however, in moments of total frustration, surprise or even happiness, I'll drop the F bomb inadvertently.

During lunchtime today, I was stopped at the light at Pico and Sepulveda. It turned green and if you know anything about driving in LA, if you wait more than 1 second, honking begins. There was none this time, but clearly the light was green but traffic was stalled. The seconds ticked away as I waited to see what was going on.

Crossing the street in front of the stopped cars was an elderly couple. Her, so frail and delicate that she clutched onto him for safety. And him, just as old, a bag of bones standing upright in folded skin. He stood as tall as he could, moved by the desire to be brave and protective of his love who gripped tightly on his elbow.

Next to me was a car packed with lunchtime commuters. Probably my age, maybe younger. They craned their necks, the driver impatient. One of them yelled out to the elderlies, "Come on!!" The elderly man, flummoxed, quickened his step only to drag his wife along. He slowed down again just as a car that was driving in the outermost lane, unaware of pedestrians, passed right in front of him. I gasped.

The lunchtime commuters passed me on the left and as they did, I snarled. From the depths of my heart, the place where I felt compelled to run out of car and stop traffic for the oldsters, the place where I feel appalled by how inconsiderate we can be as people, I dropped the F bomb at them. I think it was in the form of "What the F?!!" or "What the f were they thinking?" Fighting words should be reserved for fighting times. At that moment, for that second, I just wanted to throttle those kids - just a little bit - in the other car for being so insensitive.

It was my turn to go and the elderlies were still at least 3 feet from the safety of the curb. I waved goodbye in my heart with a prayer to God, asking Him to keep them safe, asking Him to restore some dignity to them at that moment.

It reminded me of another stalled moment at a stoplight 6 years ago. It was Sept. 11, 2001. There was a man in a wheelchair who could barely pull himself across the street. Traffic was blocked up for about 2 minutes for a couple blocks. We all waited. No one honked. On that day, it was all that you could do. And it is what we should do everyday. Does it really take a national catastrophe to shake us into kindness? Into patience? Into gentleness? I hope not.

Perhaps we could all use a little less violence, a little less apathy, and pay a little more attention. And I'm not just saying this so you don't hit a pedestrian while zipping down Wilshire, but really the life you're saving is your own when you don't let your heart grow cold.

Note: Someone please point me to my own advice next time I'm late to work :)