Dashboard vistas

There were two times I really wanted to stop the car while driving to work just now.

I saw a teen-ish-ager waiting to cross the road with what at first looked like an aqua blue bow perched above his right temple. Ends up it was a plastic pick. I haven't seen people walk around with picks in their hair since I was a little girl in Arkansas. I wanted to stop and grill him about it. Did he just do it because it was convenient? Was he being ironic and retro? Were all the kids walking around with picks in their hair? An inquiring mind wants to know.

Then, a few blocks later, I saw a monarch-ish butterfly fluttering at windshield level up ahead. I willed it to fly higher or to my left, but it bobbed up and then down just in time for me to broadside it right in front of my face. I winced and "doh!"ed. From my rear-view mirror I could see an orange dive-bomb hit the turning lane pavement, then groggily fly up a couple of feet only to smack back down to the road. I talked myself out of turning around and doing a butterfly rescue on a busy road. I would have felt ridiculous on 12 different levels for doing so, but I feel like a shit on 20 more. I'd rather be ridiculous and soft-hearted than rational...not that the two are mutually exclusive. But you know, if they were at loggerheads. Anyway, if I had it to do 20 times over, I probably wouldn't stop for a butterfly, unless I absolutely had nowhere to be. But I secretly wish I were the kind of person who would.