Rule Breaking

I had just dropped off a floor sander and some extra paper on 96th Street. I hopped back into Trixie (my truck) and pulled a U-ee in order to get to Popovers in time. A voice from the passenger seat exclaimed, “You just made a U-turn in front of a policeman”. It was my dad. I thought about the statement for a second, trying to process it. Looking over I noticed the cop car a half block away. “I guess I did” I said, “no worries, they have better things to do”.
Mom and Dad had been in the city for a long weekend. My dad hates the city. Too crowded and all that jazz. He also hates it because people do crazy things like jay walking or making a right turn from the left lane or making a U-turn in front of a cop. He went back to Seattle happily after a pop-over and lift to Newark.
Rules are a huge part of his life and back when I was a mere foot soldier, a pawn within his kingdom of command and control, I too lived by a steely set of rules. If meals could have been silent, like back when he was in the Seminary, they would have been. But he lost that battle to the wife and five kids. Nevertheless I was conditioned to abide, to conform and to obey, and so I did.
Living in New York for nearly thirty years has chamfered the sharp edges of my observances. I live and let live much more than scream and shout and point my finger. In the past my righteous indignation over egregious rule breaking sent me into sputtering, not unlike my father. Now, a shrug of the shoulders or a mild tisk is mostly what is elicited.
The problem is, I drive in New York, I have to. Because of that I cannot completely let go of a desire that all people big and small should attempt to follow rules. Mostly because I want to remain alive, but also because it would be sooooo much easier. But no. And so I continue to struggle with the desire to leave my old reactions behind and embrace more fully the easy equanimity of one who is not troubled by others actions. Fat chance.
A guy in a van scratched my truck as he was making an illegal u-turn on 
Atlantic Ave against a red light. I’m being sued by a delivery guy who ran his bike through a red light and into the side of my truck. No matter he was at fault! Who cares about that rule! Pedestrians walk into the middle of the street or cross on don’t walk signs without caring, without even looking! Rich guys on cell phones cut me off! Women applying make-up cut me off! Hasids in banged up mini vans cut me off! Illegal lefts, illegal rights, running reds, picking up fares in the middle lane, double parking, being an asshole!
I don’t want to be that apple close to that tree. I will continue to slough off the rigidity of my upbringing and let it go, just let it go. Yet sometimes you just want to smack a few people upside the head.