"Poncho: You're hit, man. You're bleedin'.
Blain: I ain't got time to bleed." – "Predator"

I am thinking about Carl Weathers. So many movies from days gone by. Like Predator. I love that movie. Some of it may have to do with it coming out my senior year in high school. Testosterone and action movies make memories.
My lovely bride told me about a speaker she listened to at an event for SmartGen Society, a group focused on helping kids with digital wellness in a 24/7 connected world. She was recapping the talk about the way our kids experience the world right now. Their noses are in their devices, and face-to-face communication is rarer than when we were kids.
In those days we were happy to do nothing but drive around in my friend's beat-up old Suburban, the one with the stuck passenger door that required us all to enter from the back and climb into our seats. It held 8 or 9 of us comfortably, and we'd drive from here to there, looking for things to do.
One night, a friend was on a date. We knew that he was probably going to be looking for some "alone time" with her and there weren't a lot of places to hide. Through the grapevine we knew of a few dark spots in parks, and one place nicknamed "The End of The World." It was in a posh neighborhood at the end of a dirt path. The house that used to sit there was burned down. All that was left was a chimney. It was dark. Kind of romantic. The perfect place for a little "scrumping" as we called it.
Our friend's date became a thing for the rest of us to do too. We went on a hunt for him. Checking a few park spots, eventually finding his car at The End of The World. We creep in, Predator commando style. No sound. No lights. We roll up right behind his little car, and hit the headlights. Since w're in a big truck the headlights flood his car with blinding light, catching him necking with his girl.
This is big fun. Big laughs.
Word spread, and it became something to do on the weekend. Go out looking for people on dates. Scare them with floodlights. Give them minor heart attacks. Drive off laughing.
One night, with the car full, we pull up behind a car we recognize, hit the lights, and laugh. The guy isn't who we thought it was. His reaction is different too. He jumps out, starts yelling, and runs up to the truck, ripping open the passenger door. The broken one we'd been living with all year. The man is ready to fight.
With the door open, the truck's interior light comes on. His girlfriend sees the car packed with 8 or 9 eighteen-year-olds. She runs up and grabs her boyfriend as he stares at my friends in the front seat. My friend in the passenger seat said, "thanks for fixing that," shuts the door, and we roll away. Legend.
Looking back, it's a wonder we didn't get shot or meet with some other terrible fate. What were we thinking?
Maybe it's best today's kids have their noses in devices.
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