I'm not one to judge when it comes to being a hater. I hate many things myself. I don't necessarily hate people, but I hate many of the actions that represent people.
I hate when people talk on cell phones at inappropriate times. Maybe not so much, because what is the difference between talking on the cell phone and talking to your present company. Maybe I just hate the type of people who do so and the crap that spills out of their mouth. While we're on the subject, I hate those little ear pieces. Maybe it's not the ear pieces that I hate because I understand that they serve a hands-free purpose. Maybe I just hate the type of people who wear them all the time because they look like cyborgs. I hate when people bring their little dogs into public buildings and cafes. Maybe it doesn't bother me so much because there isn't much of an option for dog owners when they're out with their dog. Maybe I just hate the type of people who do so proudly exercising their privilege.
As you can see, who am I to judge. I have these little negative thoughts myself that get me all fired up and end up becoming a long debate with the person I'm with.
When does hate become a positive thing? Usually hate is NEVER positive, especially when it becomes an act of violence towards an individual or a group. This usually just spreads like cancer to cause more hate and violence towards a group. Interesting how this theme is emerging on Martin Luther King day. But my focus is not about racial discrimination or violence. It is about when hate brings much amusement and humor into an individuals life.
My girlfriend and I drove up to Santa Barbara wine country to get away for the weekend. Her car has a burnt out headlamp (which I've been meaning to fix. But due to the construction of the car I have to remove the front bumper and this daunting task is easily becoming the source of much procrastination). So we've been driving at night with the high beams on. I understand that this is a slight annoyance...but it can be easily ignored...right?
So you can imagine my amusement when someone completely flips their lid. We're heading up the 101 (somewhere around Calabasas) when a pickup truck ahead of us slows down, let's us pass, merges into our lane and turns on his high beams. Okay. That's a bit proactive. Usually you'll get flashed which most likely is a courtesy to say "Hey. Your brights are on" but this was a bit ridiculous.
After a couple miles I was wondering if this was helping him therapeutically and what is the subscribed mileage (or time) length needed for the cure. Eventually, he turned off his high beams, passed us and went on his raging way.
Did the act help him? Probably not. He probably went home and spent the next hour bitching to his wife about what happened on his way home from work.
Or maybe he went on his merrily way (Having forgotten the incident altogether), kissed his wife when he walked in the door and made love to her for hours.
How should I know. Maybe I'm just as bad for focusing on this event for as long as I have, allowing it to consume so much of my thoughts and time. I mean shit...I just spent the last hour writing a blog about it.
You have to love humans.
Copyright 2011, Gris Grimly