A year ago, I wrote about an unlikely recognition day in September called National Feel the Love Day.
At a time when sitting idle two seconds too long after the light turns green earns you a blast from behind, it seemed refreshing to celebrate niceness.
Oddly enough, I'm not a particularly nice person myself. I'm easily irritated, quick to judge -- although, really, am I the only one who resents being held hostage to 20 minutes of previews and commercials before the film starts?
I hate it when people rattle their candy wrappers in the movie theater, wear heavy perfume at a concert or talk on their cell phones while sitting next to me at the airport.
I hate it when they drive 10 miles under the speed limit or chat to each other behind the counter when they're supposed to be ringing me up.
I especially hate it when they park their cars and boats and motorcycles for sale at the intersection near my neighborhood, making it look like the township used car lot. All it needs is one of those strings of colorful plastic pennants snapping in the breeze.
Still, I admire nice people and often vow to become more like them. They say admitting your problem is the first step toward overcoming it.
I got a lesson from a master recently when we crossed the Mackinac Bridge and slowed down to pay the toll.
"You're all set -- she paid for you," said the toll-taker, waving us through with a nod in the direction of the car pulling out ahead of us.
We looked at each other in stunned silence, then began puzzling aloud. Was this some Yooper custom we'd never heard of? Did the driver not have time to wait for change, so she paid for us both?
In the end, we decided the simplest theory was the most likely: She was simply practicing a random act of kindness.
The spirit of her deed caught spark, warmed us. We pulled up alongside her, tooted our horn and waved, then pledged to pay it forward by doing the same thing for the car behind us on our return trip.
Sadly, good intentions are rarely carried out and euphoria seldom lasts. By the time we crossed the bridge two days later, only my husband remembered our promise -- then decided not to honor it because the guy behind us had driven on our tail the whole way.
Now I'm thinking that maybe being nice means making the gesture anyway -- even when people don't deserve it, even when they're not nice back.
In which case National Feel the Love Day may be more about spreading the love than feeling it.
If I ever catch up to a certain driver again, I'll ask.
Staff writer Marta Hepler Drahos can be reached at mdrahos@record-eagle.com.
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