BE COOL TO THE PIZZA DUDE

I am quoting here an adaptation of "Be Cool To The Pizza Dude" by Sarah Adams that I have recently come across in my sister's Body & Soul Magazine.

I think it will make better drivers out of the bastards behind steering wheels in Metro Manila. Also, it's less mushy and puerile than Fulghum's "Everything I Needed To Blah, Blah, .... Kindergarten"

LARGE OPEN QUOTATION MARKS If I have one operating philosophy about life, it is this: "Be cool to the pizza delivery dude; it's good luck." Four principles guide the pizza dude philosophy.

PRINCIPLE 1: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in humility and forgiveness. I let him cut me off in traffic because there should be one moment in my harried life when a car may encroach or pass and I let it go. After all, the dude is delivering pizza to young and old, families and singletons, gays and straights, blacks, whites, and browns, rich and poor, vegetarians and meat lovers alike. As he journeys, I give safe passage, practice restraint, show courtesy, and contain my anger.

PRINCIPLE 2: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in empathy. Let's face it: We've all taken jobs just to have a job because some money is better than none. In the big pizza wheel of life, sometimes you're the hot, bubbly cheese, and sometimes you're the burnt crust. It's good to remember the fickle spinning of that wheel.

PRINCIPLE 3: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in honor. Let me tell you something about these dudes: They never took over a company and, as CEO, artificially inflated the value of the stock and cashed out their own shares, resulting in 20,000 people losing their jobs. Rather, the dudes sleep the sleep of the just.

PRINCIPLE 4: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in equality. My measurement as a human being is the pride I take in performing my job -- any job -- and the respect with which I treat others. I am the equal of the world not because of the car I drive or the size of the TV I own but because of the kindness in my heart. And it all starts with the pizza delivery dude.

Tip him well, friends and brethren, for that which you bestow freely and willingly will bring you all the happy luck that a grateful universe knows how to return. LARGE CLOSE QUOTATION MARKS

postscript: My neighbor was a pizza delivery dude when I was still renting a minuscule pad (more like an industrial oven -- stainless, but HOT!) a few years back. He was a well-mannered family man, a father of one son, who I eventually became godfather to. On the late night shifts, he'd come home with a small paper bag of take-out food I'd presume, for his family, always smiling despite the wrinkled, dusty uniform and bags under his eyes. On occasion, I'd ask him to fix electrical or plumbing problems in my pad and he'd oblige never taking the money I'd offer him. So, we became drinking partners on certain weekends. Much to his wife's ... oh never mind... and I'm not telling any of you any more details...