Am I carrying on a bad tradition?

I remember when I was growing up that when my dad went away on a fishing trip something crazy would happen at home that would leave my mom thinking, "Why couldn't this happen when Mike was around?" Saturday my dad and Shawn left for a week long fishing trip in Mexico and wouldn't you know it something bad happened to me Saturday night. First off, I want to say that I am alright and was not injured, so rest assured baby and I are fine.

I was on my way to Kristi's house in my old Honda Civic. I was stopped at a red light when all of a sudden I noticed my car jerk forward. I looked in my rear view mirror and noticed a car on my ass. I motioned to the old man driving the car behind me to move to the side of the road. The light turned green, I proceeded to move to the right lane to turn into the parking lot only to watch the old man speed off. Not one to let someone get away with hitting me, I followed the guy. He drove down Lampson like a crazy man reaching speeds of at least 65 in a 40 mph zone. He finally got stuck at a red light, so I caught up to him and continued to follow him ending up at his home. I got out of the car to see what kind of damage to my car I was even dealing with here. There were definite marks to my bumper, basically an imprint from his license plate frame, and some paint transfer from his white car. I walked up to his car and asked him to get out. This is when I realized I was in trouble. First off, I noticed his car was pretty banged up with scratches and dents all over it. As the driver opened his door, I soon realized I was dealing with a man close to death. I told him he hit me at the intersection and he blurted back, "No, you rolled into me." I explained that I did no such thing and would need to get his information. He slowly got out of his car and used his cane to walk turtle-like to his house. As I walked behind him, I realized he had what looked to be a pee stain on the seat of his pants. He went into his house to leave his fast food bag and came back out to talk to me. I asked if he wanted to look at my car. He snorted, "No. I've got to hurry and get off my feet." He leaned on the car in his drive way and was breathing so hard I thought for sure he was going to keel over on me right there. I asked for his name, phone number, etc. I then asked for his insurance info. He said he had USAA insurance. I asked if he had his card or knew his policy number. He grumbled, "I don't know where that card is." I then asked for his license. He pointed and said I could get it off the car myself. "No," I said. "Not your license plate number, your driver's license number. You know the one you get from the Department of Motor Vehicles." He huffed and dug into his pocket to pull out his wallet which he gingerly flipped through with trembling hands. He didn't find it so he took out his second wallet and flipped through that. He finally found his license and showed it to me. I wrote down the number along with his birthdate: April 1917! The man is 90 years old!! I started to feel bad for the old man. I asked if he would like to pay for the damages himself rather than going through his insurance. "Hell no. You'll be hearing from my lawyer." At this point, I didn't feel so sorry for the old fart. I gave him my info which I had written down for him and walked away. When I called AAA to report the accident, the operator said I did the right thing because this man probably shouldn't be driving to begin with. When I heard from AAA today, I was told I was 0% at fault and wouldn't have to pay the deductible to get the car fixed. So now tomorrow I get to go back to Honda World where we just bought the new car to get my old car fixed since we will be selling it soon and I want to make sure we get the most money we can for it. Why couldn't this all happen when Shawn was home?