My Heeeeeero!

Ok, I have to admit, sometimes I think that my husband is the absolute coolest thing alive. Yeah, yeah, sometimes I think he isn’t, but today, the glass half-filled reassumed itself within my perceptions of the C man…

Occasionally here in Das Vaterland, you may find some teenager behaving badly, being a litterbug or what-not. If said teenagers get caught doing such things in the presence of older people, though, adults have no qualms whatsoever correcting the erring youth (it takes a village, right?) Tonight, my Hubble, in perfect C-dude form, saw a young man on the train intentionally drop some paper on the ground.

“Excuse me. You dropped some paper.”
“I know,” the young man said.
Afraid of a confrontation with the two older, yet obviously extremely hip 30-somethings, both with white Macs on their laps busy away at assorted duties/non-duties, his friend said, “Pick it up and stuff it in there,” indicating the trash.

The C-ster hates litterbugs, and perhaps uncouth youth (say that five times fast) even more. I often have wanted to say such things to kids but never do. I have a bit of a fear of teenagers—a fear I account to having watched the old Star Trek episode where Captain Kirk is almost murdered by kids of some adultless planet. Their chanting “Grups! Grups!” still looms in my brain. Mix that image with a little of “Village of the Damned”, and I am practically sure that kids are out to get me. I guess I just love people who have the balls to do what I wish I could. That’s my baby. He can do so much that I can’t.