A Blue Angel Prayer

So the gentleman in the purple shirt gets up out of his chair, walks over to me, and quietly tells me that by the time the air show begins I need to find another place to stand so that I am not in the way of people sitting around us who have been waiting a long time to see the show. 

I look around and note to myself that his argument is invalid: I am not seriously in anyone's way and in a short time there will be many more people standing in this same location. Surely he must be joking.

I turn back to him, chuckle, and give him my friendliest "you've got to be pulling my leg" smile. He sits back down in his chair then menacingly says to me, "I'm only going to tell you this one time."

My dad standing next to me witnesses the moment. He later asks me why that man singled me out like that. I said I don't know but there have been many times in my life when I've wondered why people have singled me out: 

• Because I'm in the wrong? Certainly, I'm often in the wrong!
• Because that person is rude to everyone? We've all met equal opportunity cranks.
• Because I'm Mexican-American? Gulp, dare I say racism? Perhaps, but unless the person outright calls me a racial slur, I really find it hard to say. I just don't know.

All I know is that at the moment of this man's aggression, I am deeply angry. I want instant justice for his insolence.

Several scenarios play out in my imagination: 

• I insult him with very clever soul scarring comments about his lack of intelligence that haunt him all his days; 
• I deliver a quick, stunning, yet subtle Vulcan grip that renders him frozen the entire air show; 
• A posse of very large Mexican friends gather around this man and say, "Hey, amigo, tell our friend here how sorry you are and that it's all a misunderstanding," and then he does it begrudgingly, and I'm like, "Don't worry about it...No, really, it's okay"; 
• I imagine the Blue Angels as miniature drones in attack formation chasing him out of his lawn chair and down the street like a Warner Bros. cartoon character...

Instead, I painfully choose to walk away peacefully from that moment for the sake of my two year old daughter, for the sake of my beautiful wife, for my job as a high school English teacher who should know better, for my personal dignity in front of hundreds who are here as families on holiday, and for the sake of putting my Christian faith to the test. Is this what it means to be meek and turn the other cheek? I don't like it. It's not easy. In fact, I go back to the scene of the crime and shoot three photos of the perpetrator.

In hindsight, it's such a petty moment. If so, then why am I still hanging onto it?

So, to let this moment go, I write this post and sincerely pray: 

Peace be with you, my purple shirted brother, no matter what has happened in your life story to lead to this moment of rage that you've passed onto me on such a beautiful day. May angels of any color guide you and me to a better place in life. 

Amen.