Читать книгу Life Is a 4-Letter Word - David A. Levy - Страница 25

“…And Nothing but the Truth”

The courtroom was cold, ominous, and intimidating. But naturally I couldn’t show how I felt. I was sixteen years old and was not about to appear as anything other than aloof and bored. My poor mom was both nervous and embarrassed as we approached the judge’s bench…

Having been issued a traffic ticket the month before, I was making my mandated court appearance. Evidently, the engineers at Fiat had neither the foresight nor courtesy to design their mid-1960s two-seat convertible to accommodate a driver and five teenage passengers. After rehearsals for our high school production of “The Skin of Our Teeth,” I’d hastily lower the top and cram as many cast members into the car as possible — some of them wedged behind the seats and some onto the trunk — and ferry them home. The nightly rides were sheer joy. But one evening, the buzzkill of those flashing red lights abruptly swung our collective mood from unbridled ecstasy to deep gloom. And although I was definitely bummed out, I really can’t say that I was surprised.

The judge pondered something for a couple minutes, then admonished me for my behavior, let me off with a warning, and dismissed the case. My mom breathed an audible sigh of relief, thanked him, and we headed toward the exit. But, dammit, I just couldn’t leave well enough alone. Much to my mother’s chagrin, I turned back, overcome by an uncontrollable need to stand up to The Man and get in the last word: “Excuse me, Your Honor,” my voice dripping with sarcasm, “but I didn’t realize that there was any particular law against the number of people I can carry in my car.”

The judge’s look was stern, but his voice was kindly: “But you knew it was wrong, didn’t you, son?” He had me. I had nothing to say. No flimsy excuse. No convoluted rationalization. No smartass teenage retort. Nothing. My juvenile swagger had dissolved into humbled silence. I simply lowered my eyes and nodded slowly.

Of course, he was right. He knew it. My mom knew it. Everybody in the courtroom knew it. And, most important, I knew it.

It’s easy to rationalize irrational behavior — it gives us comfort. It’s much harder to seek and accept the truth — it can be painful. And recognizing the difference between the two can be harder still. But if we value truth over self-deception, it’s well worth the pursuit.