On the freeway on Sunday, I spotted a white semi beat-up late 80s-to-early 90s model Chevy Pontiac Grand Prix to my right. Thinking it may be, on the off-chance, a coworker of mine, I looked into the driver’s window as we passed and saw a very content looking man in his late 40s or early 50s, a stranger to me. It struck me that he may have had this car for decades, he may have purchased it used, but the expression was of someone having a great time in this old car. I instantly thought at him admiringly, “You’re a better person than me.”