Invasion of Ignorance

Each week, bare minumum, I spend 10 hours driving. While you're driving, you really don't have too many activities to keep you busy. Most people are content with simply operating their vehicle. Not me. I have to put on music, have a drink, find something in the backseat, or adjust the heat. For some reason I spend the majority of my driving time looking at things besides the road. Now, while this may not be the safest route to work everyday, I don't think its all bad. I see lots of things out the window: nosepickers, cell phone earpieces, people singing, and the often performed coffee in one hand-cigarette in the other hand. I also notice other things, things that make me think a bit more. Like today, in Middleboro. First, I saw that someone had spraypainted a speed limit sign, so you could barely make out the 35 on it. Then I came to a stop sign, one that had a red undercoat, but was covered in black. If you were driving on this road for the first time, you would never know it was a stop sign. What I want to understand is the reasoning behind this and the following examples. What good does it do to black-out a stop sign? Honestly, if someone explains it to me in a coherent manner that makes sense, I will listen. Its a tough thing to say, but I hope if anyone ever misses that stop sign and causes an accident, its someone that the person who did it knows. It isn't a funny joke to do that; its not clever or original. Its fucking retarded. Go spraypaint some dirt, or a rock or something if you need to rebel with a spray can. Maybe you should also consider lining up the can with a wall in front of you, turning the can around, and filling your mouth, throat and lungs with paint.

Next up in the batting order of ignorance is keying someone's car. Before we delve into this subject let me first say that I understand, to an extent, vandalism. Hell, I can even let someone convince me that occasionally it is deserved. Eye for an eye. For example, if your girlfriend finds you fucking some broad in the backseat of your car, then certainly when you hear that key start scraping a line down the side of your car you can understand where it is coming from. That scenario has never happened to me, but I can tell you about one that did. I had my car keyed in the parking lot during a fucking Coldplay concert. I cannot understand this for the life of me. Do I have an arch enemy who followed me to the Tweeter Center, and hid until I went into the concert to fuck my car up? My Magic 8 Ball reads, "Outlook not so Good." I'm pretty sure it wasn't anyone I know, which makes it a random crime. How much ignorance do you have to possess to key a random car in a lot full of cars? I wonder if I was the only one, or if he was a serial keyer. The point is...you don't even get to see the person's reaction when they see that their car has been keyed. Unless they hide somewhere, but that act carries the possiblity of being caugh, something that a person keying cars would avoid at all costs. Basically, some punk ass walked by my car, dragging his keys, him and his buddies laughed, and by the time they passed the next row of cars, it was forgotten. And my car was now pinstriped....on one side. At least if you are going to do it, go for the gold man. Hook me up with a matching one on the other side. And really, if you get off on keying cars, key a good car would you? "Duuuude I just keyed someone's caaaarrrrr man." "O ya, who's?" "I don't know, just one I saw when I was walking." "Awsome. What kind? Lexus? Benz? H2?" "Na man, just some old green Chevy..." So if you are out there, tell your mother I said I was sorry she has to call you son.

For the last item on our exquisite menu of ignorance, we have today's special: My brother getting randomly punched in the face at a Goo-Goo Dolls concert. What the fuck? Is that a misprint? Did I really type that? Yes I did, and its fuckin' pathetic. So I'm at home, hanging out a few years ago when the phone rings...its my brother, Matt. "Is dad there?" "Why, " I asked. "Because I got punched in the face. I think my nose is broken, and someone needs to come get me." "Are you serious?" I hear myself say. "Ya can you put him on the phone?" Needless to say my father was heated, and if there is one thing in my life I know...its that you don't get Tom DiOrio angry. It's not quite Lou Ferrigno turning green, but its close. In the end, he did have a broken nose, and he was ok, but I'm sure you are wondering who punched him and why. Turns out he was walking on the grass in one direction, with a few friends, when a pack of drunken idiots walked by the other way. Somone from that group decided to slug him, and they all kept on moving. If you have ever got your clock cleaned, you get disoriented and can't comprehend what is happening, especially if you get blind-sided and aren't expecting it. My question is, what did that guy who punched him do immediately afterwards? High-five his friends? Punch someone else? Have a good laugh about it later? Here's my guess; this guy threw the punch, finished his beer, puked, when he finished yelled "Woooooooooooooooooooooooo!"then got another beer and degraded a woman in line. I guess the point, again, is why would you do that?

What do you get out of punching someone randomly or keying the first car you walk by with your keys out. What does it prove, when you aren't even there to be held accountable for your actions. There are many kinds of ignorance in this world, but why is it that cowards seem to have the most of it. Spraypaint a stop sign, don't stop. Punch someone, keep walking. Key a car, keep moving. It don't make no mu'fuckin' sense. I honestly would have less of a problem with all this if the people were there to see their dirty work in action. Like if the spraypainter sat near the stop sign with a lawn chair and a beer, waiting for someone to crash. What about Random Puncher, if he turned around and actually challenged someone to a fight, instead of punching and running. And finally, if that fucker who had keyed my car had been sitting on my hood waiting for me to come out so he could show me his craftsmanship, I would have respected that. Then, I would have put all my distain for ignorance in my back pocket...pull out my keys, place one in between each finger, and key this kid's face. You know what they say....Ignorance breeds ignorance.