Tag: #roadrage

you meet someone you know from gossip

our hour our sense our self
in each case you can choose to cooperate or cheat

i wasn’t thinking of any particular meeting or person, just the idea of how sometimes characters can go from sort of fictional, like a friend of a friend, and then you are introduced and you feel like you already know them a bit. and maybe they even know something about you…

at the time of writing, i’m just back from a weekend of cycling with my club. we had glorious weather for a weekend in argyll, scotland. we cycled 220km with 3000m of elevation. i ate so many squashies and cereal bars. i’m looking forward to returning to my regular diet.

the roads were great, although a bit busy with cars at some points. devoted readers of the blog will know that i dislike cars. there was one particularly bonkers point when we were almost mowed down by a fire engine that i can only assume had been stolen. then a sports utility van thing that almost crashed head on with another car while overtaking. breathtaking stupidity really.

[post script] i have now been back from the holiday for two weeks, and the experience was dampened quite significantly when i learned that one of my club mates sadly died suddenly shortly after the trip. he was older, and had a heart transplant, so i suppose he had probably done his memento mori and made peace with mortality. but death never fails to shock. i didn’t know him well but he seemed like a good guy. rest in peace, s. d. (a different s. d.)

is there space for love without condition between event and response?

the love epochal is meant to be both earnest and ironic. on the one hand, i really am making a conscious effort to love my fellow creatures, whether they deserve it or not. but you know, its hard, i’m not jesus, i’m prone to moderate instances of rage.

i shout at drivers who cut me up on my bike, or who almost knock me down when i’m being a pedestrian. i believe this helps me balance my tempers. we all shout and gesture a bit then go on with our days. i don’t dwell on it too much.

but i know that its not really the driver’s fault entirely. why have we designed this world like this? why do we let people operate heavy machinery in residential areas? why don’t we enforce the rules of the road? these are all systemic problems. so when i call the man who almost knocked me over, ‘a fat bald prick,’ what i really mean is: ‘if only we could find a way to cooperate rather than compete, the bond of love between us would glow warm with mutual respect.’