The road I live on in rural PA, while heavily traveled, is not overly populated. In fact for three miles in either direction you can count the number of homes visible from this busy road on the fingers of one hand.
You can’t really see my house from the road. Especially at the speed you are forced to travel the 35 MPH road by in-a-hurry SUV drivers (About 55 MPH on a good day) who tailgate you or blow horns and middle finger gesture at you if dare to slow them down.
I like not being visible to passers-by. We have lived quiet lives, not so desperate, for 25 years or so without a single trick or treater. Or door to door salesman.
So when I returned from my pleasure ride in my balky, hard to start, aging convertible the other sunny day I was less than pleased to see a brand new black sedan parked smacked in the middle of my driveway.
I reluctantly shut down the car, knowing full well it probably wouldn’t start again. At least not without some carefully chosen epithets.
I am not really as anti-social as this will make me sound. I am MORE anti-social than you can imagine. While string trimming the edges near the road I am often asked how to get to the prison (L.C.C.F. is just a few miles away as the jailbird flies) by travelers in large, newer, luxury vehicles. The window scrolls down electrically and I am asked:
“Say, hows you get to de prison?”
My reply, without breaking stride is invariably:
“A life of crime is my guess.”
So it was, as I watched the two ladies in the brightly colored dresses approach, I hoped they would ask for directions. Then I could just be nasty. But no, it wasn’t to be. I heard little that they said. But I heard the word “Watchtower” and it was like a 50 thousand amp cattle prod was doing a colonoscopy on me.
You see I have read the Watchtower. Enough to know that it strongly discourages followers (Jehovah’s Witnesses) from questioning its doctrines and counsel and warns members to “avoid independent thinking”; claiming such thinking “was introduced by Satan the Devil.” From what I gleaned, the Watch Tower Society cultivates a system of unquestioning obedience in which Witnesses give up all responsibility and rights over their personal lives.
I don’t like that. I disapprove strongly.
I exercised my independent thinking.
I invited them to swiftly leave with about seven words that I am certain they had not heard before.
Do I feel great about it? Meh. But as Clint Eastwood said,
“Get off my lawn!”