Just gotta spit

Recently, I was driving into my hometown, across a structure known as the "White Bridge" although it isn't white anymore. This quaint, historic bridge crosses Curry Creek and is a bit more narrow than the rest of the roadway. Anyone on the sidewalk is in close proximity to drivers, and there were two teenaged boys, walking along, spitting over the side. Neither boy was remarkable, just two guys clad in jeans and t-shirts, spitting. I drove on, but they kept walking and spitting, until they reached solid ground. What is it about teen boys and spitting?

A few years ago, our family spent a day in Helen, Georgia, a touristy place all dressed up as a Bavarian village, with the rushing waters of the Chattahoochee running right through town. The food is interesting, the gift shops mostly overpriced, and it is a good day trip into the foothills of the mountains. Many tourists rent colorful innertubes and float down the river in the hot summer, and on that day hubby and son were tubing, while daughter and I were shopping, as well as watching the tubing on the ’hooch. As daughter and I stood on the bridge in downtown Helen, waiting for our guys to float under, I noted several teenaged boys, spitting. I won't say they were engaged a saliva assualt, but the oversized tubes did make good targets.

Having spent quite a few years glaring at young folks, with the goal of improving their behavior, I turned my camera toward the offenders, and zoomed in, not clicking the shutter, but pretending. A few of them noticed and moved on, but the ones with girlfriends as motivators kept on spitting. The guys would hawk up saliva, at least I hope that is all, and the girls would cheer.

Why do young men spit? And what kind of mama raises a girl who would find that talent desirable?

Some parts of life are simply inexplicable.