I had a “moment” this morning on my way to work. Keep in mind, this is a rural commute of less than five miles along one of the area’s prettiest roads. Just as I was coming down Lawrence Hill Road into the heart of Weston village and approaching the intersection with Main Street, I saw a middle-aged, shirtless man in the middle of the street. He looked like he was wrapping up a morning jog; he had a bottle of water in one hand and looked rather damp. Just as I was about to pass him, he kicked a previously unseen soccer ball across the road towards Weston’s Village Green. He missed! The ball flew in front of me and hit one of the railings and ricocheted out into Main Street. Surprisingly, the road was empty at this moment. I scowled at the jogging soccer-dad, mentally admonishing him that our roads were not his playground and it was irresponsible for him to play with his ball in the middle of the street. What kind of example was he setting for children? My MOMENT occurred as I passed him. I glanced in my rearview mirror to see him jog out into the middle of Main Street and kick the ball once again towards the Green. My frown turned upside down into a huge grin when I saw the ball again hit a rail and catapult itself across the road into Main Street. I laughed all the way down the street to my office as I watched the ball aimlessly drift down the center of the street with this poor guy jogging after it!
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