A few years ago, I penned a column that made light of the fact that West Lake Hills City Council meetings were better than reality TV shows. In the past year and a half that new mayor in town Dave Claunch has taken the helm, the tide has turned. Now, there is smooth sailing for the four-square-mile little town of West Lake Hills. No one has even hinted that they’d like to step outside with a council member after a disagreement, and bickering has been practically nonexistent among council members.

Strangely enough, about the same time that lull began in West Lake Hills, the Rollingwood City Council meetings began another version of reality TV. There has been more than one incident involving cars parked outside during council meetings being keyed and defaced with ugliness in the form of scribbling that shall go unsaid here. In addition, during consecutive months, monthly meetings have lasted more than six hours. The joke among townspeople in both communities is that Rollingwood caught whatever disease was affecting West Lake Hills politics a couple of years ago.

But there is no disease, just passionate people who sometimes let anger get the best of them. It’s a strange phenomenon, but some people just have a mean streak that they just cannot hold in check on certain occasions.

Most people who know me probably have a hard time believing this, but I have a mean streak, too. It’s not mean enough to key someone’s car or call a city official outside for a shout-down or worse, but I’ve experienced road rage and have come close to succumbing to it.

Fortunately, the only physical altercation I’ve ever had were with my older brother. They were usually brief, and he was nice enough not to kill me. However, most of the time, when confronted with someone’s verbal abuse, I’ve managed to avoid conflict by killing the conflict with kindness. It’s something my wise mother insisted would work. I always doubted her until testing her theory countless times during my more than 25 years in the newspaper business. It really does work.

My latest test came a few weeks ago while doing some yard work. I was actually enjoying how effortlessly my new weed eater sliced through the St. Augustine grass growing over my frontyard walkway when I noticed two teenagers in a white Suburban come to an abrupt stop. Thinking they needed directions, I stopped weed eating just in time to hear the driver yell, “You big fat *!?#@%*.” My first reaction to the obscenity was a tinge of anger. And it hurt a little because I have lost about five pounds during the past year. But, I responded by simply smiling and waving as they sped off.

I don’t know if my failure to show my anger did anything for the teenagers, but it worked for me because I wholeheartedly believe you shouldn’t sweat the small stuff.