Nobody likes a show-off

I sometimes really wonder why people are compelled to do the things they do.  For instance, today I was driving in the East part of Lincoln, in the part of town that goes from actually residential areas to cornfields and back again in the blink of an eye.  Coming toward me on this road was some guy on a flashy blue motorcycle (don’t ask me what kind, I have no clue – I can’t even tell you a car make unless I’m right behind it reading the name off the bumper).  Then, for no apparent reason, he revs the engine and pops a wheelie.  He kept at it for a while, because he was still on one wheel in my rearview mirror.  But why?  Was this a motorcross or “X-treme” sports show of some type?  No.  Were there loads of chicks hanging out on the side of the cornfield to be impressed?  No.  Was he trying to look cool for the oncoming traffic?  Well, he failed, because I just thought he was stupid.  I’m wondering if he just pops random wheelies as he’s driving around, just because he can.

In other “what the hell” news, I had to laugh at my friend’s dad.  Now dad is apparently a needy, co-dependent guy, and even though he lives with his daughter and her family, he totally relies on my friend Scott.  He has even infringed on our weekly get-togethers (Scott, his partner Chris and I have been getting together pretty much every Sunday for several years, usually to watch movies, eat, bowl, eat….well, eating’s always involved).  Initially dad just came along every once in a while, such as if we were going to a movie he happened to be interested in or if it was Father’s Day.  Now, he’s just there every week (which is, frankly, a bit weird – would you want to hang out with your kid’s friends every week?).  He is a nice guy and I like him, but every week?  Anyway, Chris’ grandmother passed away this weekend (she’s been in a nursing home for several years and a coma for a couple of months, so it was more or less expected).  Dad has never met grandma.  Dad is in no way related to the family.  However, on July 4th, I overheard dad inviting himself along to the funeral.  Who does that?  I don’t really like going to funerals to people I actually know, but to invite yourself along to a funeral of someone you’ve never met?  That just seems crazy to me.  Thank goodness my own dad is sane.

Alright, I must be off to Jazzercise.  More exciting tidbits later.

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