Back at the fork, I wasn't that sure myself what was the right way to go. Even though I'd driven it a couple times, the mind wanted to choose that attractive western split. Something about being in the right general direction, coupled with the beckoning curves of it, the rounded grassy goodness of that way, made it seem the right choice.
So much so, I wasn't sure until we'd gone a ways. Then I was sure it wasn't. You come upon new sights you've never seen before, and you know you are on a strange way. Hence my certainty. I'd driven before, Lu hadn't, thus I was sure. Nothing like the absolute metaphysical existence of our only certainty in life - error. I mean, if we'd gone the other way I wouldn't have been sure because stuff looked vaguely familiar, like it had the whole journey. But once we were well down the wrong way, I knew for sure. So though she was equally certain that she was right, I was equally certain she was wrong. Seemingly an impasse, but sometimes with long experience you get a trust that transcends your own faith in yourself. The Social reinforcement of differing subjects is the only definition of real reality I know. And somehow, my certainty convinced her against herself and thus she was amazed when she reluctantly took my advice and then the real Cleveland Harbor came into view. And earned me lots of husband-brownie points because I didn't rub it in. Excessively. I mean, I did dance around and chant, "I was right and you were wrong, I was right and you were wrong." But only for a day or so. On Thu, Feb 4, 2010 at 11:02 AM, Louise Pryor <[email protected]>wrote: > Driving alone to see my oldest daughter, along the beautiful back roads of > the Sacramento valley, I spend a lot of time thinking. Sometimes I turn off > the radio, and just let my thoughts travel where they will. > > On that particular afternoon, as I got close to the 128/121 split I started > thinking over, again, the last time JC and I came this way. We had been > discussing, back and forth, the whole way, the different paths we could > travel, I *knew* the better way, he, misunderstanding the way I meant, > insisted that we go his way. > > When we had come to the 121/128 split, I had gone straight, because I knew, > without a shadow of a doubt, that this was the correct way. I had > remembered > that the first time we had driven this way, I had a map, and I had pulled > over, right there, to see which way. And then I had called him, who was > following a couple of miles behind in another car, to tell him the correct > way to go. > > But the last time, he had doubted me! I kept driving the way I knew was > right, but he kept insisting, “are you sure?”, and “this isn’t the right > way”, and “turn around”. But I knew that just around the next bend I would > see the short cut, and I was absolutely sure that this was the right way. > And yet, as sure as I was, he became more and more sure that he was right. > “Do you actually recognize any of this countryside?” > > “Well, no, but it looks right!” He told me to pull over and turn around, > because he was positive that this was the wrong way. > > He insisted - I pulled over, and we just sat there for a few minutes. He > said, “I need you to trust me, even if I’m wrong, you have to turn around.” > Well, OK, since he admitted that he might be wrong, I did it. > > We made a deal, a long time ago - we can argue as much as we want, but when > it came to a stalemate, I would give in to him. We had reached our > stalemate, and I gave in - but the whole way back, as he’s saying “we went > a > long way out of our way and we’re going to be late now”, I was saying back, > “yeah, NOW we’re going a long way out of our way!”. He said, “OK, when we > get to the split, we’ll pull over and ask at the store, so that you can be > sure.” So we did, he insisted that I come in with him, so that I wouldn’t > doubt what he heard in there, so I did. > > And when the old-timers in the store both said that he was right, I still > doubted, and asked them twice - “are you *sure*?”. > > And when he started driving in that direction - he had to drive, because I > still *knew* he was wrong - down to the tips of my toes! - he asked, "don’t > you recognize these landmarks?" > > “No, As far as I know I’ve never seen this place before!” > > The feeling held until we came to the short cut - which I did recognize. At > which point, I grudgingly had to admit that he had been right all along. > > Two things stand out strongly to me about the whole, rather surreal > afternoon; The first being that no one got mad. That I didn’t end up in > tears, there was no screeching of tires, one angry spouse getting out and > walking... All of which have happened in the past. > > The second being - It boggles my mind, how I could be so totally sure of > my rightness, and be so totally 100% wrong - what is the “moral” of this > story, I wonder? Should I doubt myself on everything now? > > I guess the one lesson it has reaffirmed in my noggin is that I can trust > my > husband. Even when he seems like a crazy person to me sometimes, he has a > good sense of direction. He will give in to me on a lot of points, but when > he knows he’s right, I should just sit back and enjoy the ride - only I > still don’t like roller coasters... > > Lu > Moq_Discuss mailing list > Listinfo, Unsubscribing etc. > http://lists.moqtalk.org/listinfo.cgi/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org > Archives: > http://lists.moqtalk.org/pipermail/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org/ > http://moq.org.uk/pipermail/moq_discuss_archive/ > Moq_Discuss mailing list Listinfo, Unsubscribing etc. http://lists.moqtalk.org/listinfo.cgi/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org Archives: http://lists.moqtalk.org/pipermail/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org/ http://moq.org.uk/pipermail/moq_discuss_archive/
