By Chuck Woodbury
At about 8:30 Thursday morning, my neighbor fired up his very loud diesel-powered Dodge Ram pickup. He was preparing to leave the campground. He was accompanying the owner of a fifth wheel trailer. Altogether, there were about eight people.
His pickup was parked close to my motorhome, maybe 12 feet away.
Some guys with diesel pickups think they need to warm their engines for an eternity. Not so, but don’t tell them that.
He idled his engine for 25 minutes! After 10 minutes Gail told me, “Tell him to stop.” And I would normally have done that. But I responded, “No, I want to see how long he will continue being rude.” Plus, there were eight of them and one of me. I figured it would be an opportunity for me to climb on my soapbox, as I have here, and complain about rude people. People get ruder every year, I swear.
Oh, did I mention that it was lovely sucking diesel fumes involuntarily into my lungs.
Finally, the owner of the noisy truck pulled out to follow the fifth wheeler (I think its owner idled his engine for about two minutes).
But “Mr. Rude” was also “Mr. Stupid.” Instead of backing out of his parking space he drove forward, slamming into the picnic table which buckled against a tree stump. The table was a goner.
I called the park office to report the damage. The park owner, came by 10 minutes later. He said the man had not stopped to report that he had destroyed the table. He said it would be nice to get reimbursed for the damage, but he didn’t think it was likely.
Humanity: Ninety percent respectful, 8 percent rude, 2 percent worthless.