confrontation, then tears

Discussion in 'Road Cycling' started by Claire Petersky, Mar 8, 2004.

  1. This morning I started out late, because I helped kids with
    school-related matters, then had to hunt for a missing
    glove. Still, it was a fine morning. Last week, I wore two
    layers of fleece and a rain-proof jacket over that, and it
    was still quite cold. This morning I wore a regular jersey,
    and just a light vest over that. It was a nice, bright,
    sunny morning, and I noticed that all the ornamental plum
    trees in our neighborhood have started to blossom.

    The day before, I sang in support of three church services,
    and still had not completely come down from that experience.
    My songs on the bike were "Salaam" [1], and "Let There be
    Peace on Earth". [2]

    About twenty minutes into the ride I was riding on Richards
    Road. The light was green. I was riding in front of cars
    waiting at the off-ramp. A pick-up truck, waiting at the
    right turn lane sits on his horn because I am riding in
    front of him, and preventing him from immediately whipping
    around the corner on the right. I come to a dead halt right
    in front of him, and gape at him in incredulity. How could
    he *possibly* be honking at me? I have a green light. He has
    a red. He continues to sit on his horn. I continue to stare
    at him. He has this look of complete smug superiority. Since
    communication with someone verbally is impossible when a
    horn is blaring without any respite, I wrap my knuckles on
    the hood of his pick-up, and point at his red light, and his
    green light. He continues this look of smiling smugness,
    never letting up on his horn.

    Well, I could have sat there until my light turned yellow --
    and it's a very long light in my direction -- but I had
    better things to do, like get to work, and this yahoo
    obviously has a brain of a small legume [3]. So I shook my
    head at this twit, and immediately turned on to the I-90
    bike trail entrance.

    I rode maybe 200 m (I am very bad at estimating distances of
    this range), riding just to the top of the initial hill
    after the trail head, when the adrenaline from the
    confrontation hits me. I do the girly thing, and burst into
    tears. I don't mean just my eyes watering. I mean, I've
    stopped the bike, draped the top half of me on the
    handlebars, and am seized with big, racking sobs. "Buh-huh-
    huh! Buh-huh-huh!" as mucus flows freely out of my nose. I
    manage to hold it down enough that I can actually get back
    on the bike, and I hope to ride it out.

    But I'm toddling through the swamp then, at maybe 10 mph
    (and this with a slight downhill), still crying as I'm
    riding along, and I realize, I am not just going to be able
    to ride it out. I make a plan -- I will stop where there's a
    view, and really work at pulling myself together.

    I ride until I'm at the top of the bridge that goes over the
    slough.[4] I get off of the bike. I stand there for a while,
    and wait to stop crying. I pay attention to my breathing. I
    look at the view. I watch a couple of red-wing blackbirds
    flit and squawk over the water. From time to time the
    confrontation comes back into mind, and I review my physical
    and emotional reactions with gentle curiosity. "What exactly
    are you feeling now, Claire Bear? Where is this feeling in
    your body?"[5] Then I go back to watching the breath,
    relaxing my shoulders, looking at the blue sky.

    Finally, I think I'm together enough now to ride. My legs
    still feel wobbly, but I'm basically ok. I briefly consider
    turning right, up to the park and ride, and loading my bike
    on to the bus. But then I think riding for a bit longer
    will help.

    I was riding now around Enetai Park, and thinking that a hug
    would really help me feel very much better. My husband was
    at home, in the wrong direction, about 7 miles. Maybe my
    officemate, a friend and fellow cyclist, would have obliged,
    but she was at work, still another 8 miles ahead, a long
    ways off too. I then thought that I was now so late in to
    work, that perhaps I'd see Dane coming up pretty soon.

    Sure enough, when I got on the East Channel bridge, there
    was Dane, his ponytail whipping around in the breeze. I got
    Dane to stop, he listened sympathetically, and upon request,
    he gave me a little on-the-bike squeeze.

    I resumed riding, and pretty soon I was feeling okay again.
    When "Salaam" came back into my head again, my riding song
    for the morning, I knew everything was all right.

    Later, at work, I realized that my knuckles were in pain. It
    took me a while to realize that the black-and-purple color
    on them was self-inflicted, on the hood of pick-up.

    I hate it when I get that completely emotionally consumed.
    You know, my daughter basically flunked out of the kids'
    Anger Management Class that the school counselor recommended
    for her after we had some incidents in the classroom. I know
    where she has inherited that temper. It's not like you get a
    little upset. It's that you get so blindingly overwhelmed
    with that upsetness that it completely floods your whole
    mind and body, and it takes a while to shake it all out.
    Don't tell me I should have done things like written down
    the pick-up's license plate number. I didn't have the
    wherewithal to think of something so rational as that.
    Rational was not present at the time, you know?

    My song for the way home was, "Take O Take Me as I am". [6]
    It was a good ride.

    Warm Regards,

    Claire Petersky Please replace earthlink for mouse-potato
    and .net for .com

    Home of the meditative cyclist:
    http://home.earthlink.net/~cpetersky/Welcome.htm Email me
    re: the new Tiferet CD (http://www.tiferet.net)

    [1] The version in my head for the ride was the verse we
    sing in Arabic. The words in English are: Peace will yet
    embrace us/And everyone/Peace/For us and the entire
    world/Salaam/Shalom.
    [2] You know, "...and let it begin with me". It's not one of
    "our" songs, but they had us do it at the church we were
    singing at on Sunday.
    [3] Not a large legume, like a lima bean, but a small one,
    like a split pea, or a black lentil.
    [4] The view is very similar to the one you see here:
    http://tinyurl.com/yqpxu, except it is actually greener
    in that picture taken in November. Right now, in the
    beginning of March, it hasn't greened up yet.
    [5] The inner voice that calls me "Claire Bear" sounds like
    Mullah Jamal Rahman, a local Islamic spiritual teacher.
    It's nice to have his melodious accent speak to me so
    gently and in such a kind way.
    [6] From the Episcopal Missal: Take O take me as I
    am/Summon out who I will be/Set your seal upon my
    heart/And live in me
     
    Tags:


  2. Cathy Kearns

    Cathy Kearns Guest

    There are times I'm really happy I'm a girl. When folks honk
    at me when they obviously shouldn't be is one of those
    times. I turn, flash a huge smile, and wave, as they are
    obviously honking because they know me, or why else would
    they be honking. I usually am waving at folks I know. But
    sometimes I'm smiling and waving at some jerk who now is
    just a bit madder that not only was I still in his way, I
    waved.....
     
  3. Zoot Katz

    Zoot Katz Guest

    Tue, 09 Mar 2004 04:29:44 GMT, <[email protected]_s03>,
    "Claire Petersky" <[email protected]> wrote:

    >I do the girly thing, and burst into tears. I don't mean
    >just my eyes watering.

    Molly Millions, a William Gibson character, had her tear
    ducts rerouted to her salivary glands. She'd have spit.
    --
    zk
     
  4. Andrew Price

    Andrew Price Guest

    Claire wrote ...

    > Since communication with someone verbally is impossible
    > when a horn is
    blaring
    > without any respite, I wrap my knuckles on the hood of his
    > pick-up, and point at his red light, and his green light.
    > He continues this look of smiling smugness, never letting
    > up on his horn....

    The only thing I think really works in this situation is to
    wave and smile as if greeting a friend and treat their horn
    play as a big hello. Agression or flipping the bird [1] only
    brings you down to their level - by deliberately claiming
    acquaintance and recognition leaves the perpetrators in a
    state of confusion and unhappiness - they have failed to
    upset you and you win the smugness stakes. Its also a smart
    move in that you have not taken a provocative action
    escalating the aggression - important legally if the
    situation deteriorates.

    When I have watched the reaction of cretins they actually
    become unsure of their position, and want to move onto
    something more rewarding - you have spoilt their "fun" - you
    win, they lose.

    > I was riding now around Enetai Park, and thinking that a
    > hug would really help me feel very much better..... I got
    > Dane to stop, he listened sympathetically, and upon
    > request, he gave me a little on-the-bike
    squeeze.

    Couple of years back one of the coachs in our bunch was off
    to ride a season with a team in Europe - a very accomplished
    lady racer. She went up and down the bunch saying goodbyes
    till she came to the Really Good Friend who hugged her side
    by side with both of them with their hands off the bars.
    Sharp intake of breath by 30 riders terrified that we are
    all going to come down but they held their line, kept pace -
    huge admiration (and jealousy!) from all the other riders -
    still looking for a coach to teach me that one - the hell
    with sprint training, this is a life skill.

    > I hate it when I get that completely emotionally consumed.
    > You know, my daughter basically flunked out of the kids'
    > Anger Management Class [2] ...
    Don't tell me I should have done things like
    > written down the pick-up's license plate number. I didn't
    > have the wherewithal to think of something so rational as
    > that. Rational was not present at the time, you know?

    Couple of things will help - you are probably still
    replaying the incident in your mind - in the replay change
    your responses as if you were replaying a game of chess you
    could have played better - have the moves and the reactions
    rehersed - unless they put the entire population on Prozac
    this will happen to all of us that ride on roads
    occasionally. I suspect the encounters will tend to have a
    sameness about them that lend themselves to learning a
    number of smart reactions that defuse the situation and
    miminise your own emotional wear and tear. Instead of
    swearing back at bad language or physical remonstrations,
    think about some clever responses. Its a bit like that side
    by side hug - takes some practice but a skill well worth
    your learning.

    [1] My son tells me the bird derives from the middle ages
    when long bow archers were the most dangerous forces and
    if captured their middle fingers were either removed or
    permanently disabled. As opposing armies lined up, the
    archers in particular liked to hold up their middle
    finger in a gesture of capability and contempt directed
    to the opposing forces; the gesture is still with us,
    without the need to draw a bow string.

    [2] Have no experience with AMC's but my daughters practice
    between themselves good lines to use when hit on by
    someone they are not interested in - they seem to have
    get rather good at those responses, which also tend to
    follow a formula. I wonder if you have some better moves
    than getting angry in the locker, you might go there
    first for responses.

    best, Andrew (remove the .x1 to reply)
     
  5. zy2238

    zy2238 Guest

    >the hood of pick-up.
    >
    >I hate it when I get that completely emotionally consumed.
    >You know, my daughter basically flunked out of the kids'
    >Anger Management Class that the school counselor
    >recommended for her after we had some incidents in the
    >classroom. I know where she has inherited that temper. It's
    >not like you get a little upset. It's that you get so
    >blindingly overwhelmed with that upsetness that it
    >completely floods your whole mind and body, and it takes a
    >while to shake it all out. Don't tell me I should have done
    >things like written down the pick-up's license plate
    >number. I didn't have the wherewithal to think of something
    >so rational as that. Rational was not present at the time,
    >you know?
    >
    >My song for the way home was, "Take O Take Me as I am". [6]
    >It was a good ride.
    >
    >Warm Regards,
    >
    >Claire Petersky Please replace earthlink for mouse-potato
    >and .net for .com
    >
    >Home of the meditative cyclist:

    Meditate and re-center yourself. It is impossible to avoid
    all conflict, and it is natural to be emotionally upset
    during unpleasant situations. You do not choose emotion, it
    happens. Unless, of course, you are a Zen master.

    I am reminded of a Japanese Zen story.

    The Zen master Hakuin was praised by his neighbors as one
    living a pure life. A beautiful Japanese girl whose parents
    owned a food store lived near him. Suddenly, without any
    warning, her parents discovered she was with child. This
    made her parents angry. She would not confess who the man
    was, but after much harassment at last named Hakuin. In
    great anger the parents went to the master. 'Is that so?"
    was all he would say. After the child was born it was
    brought to Hakuin. By this time he had lost his reputation,
    which did not trouble him, but he took very good care of the
    child. He obtained milk from his neighbors and everything
    else the little one needed. A year later the girl-mother
    could stand it no longer. She told her parents the truth-
    that the real father of the child was a young man who worked
    in the flshmarket. The mother and father of the girl at once
    went to Hakuin to ask his forgiveness, to apologize at
    length, and to get the child back again. Hakuin was willing.
    In yielding the child, all he said was: "Is that so?"

    Claire, while we cannot undo what has been experienced, we
    can transcend through being centered, as had Hakuin. Cycling
    is the body-mind art of centering. The legs pump, the wheels
    spin, the scenery flleetingly appears, the mind motionlessly
    witnesses.

    Joe
     
  6. On Mon, 08 Mar 2004 23:13:39 -0800, Zoot Katz <[email protected]>
    wrote:

    >Tue, 09 Mar 2004 04:29:44 GMT,
    ><[email protected]_s03>, "Claire Petersky" <[email protected]
    >potato.com> wrote:
    >
    >>I do the girly thing, and burst into tears. I don't mean
    >>just my eyes watering.
    >
    >Molly Millions, a William Gibson character, had her tear
    >ducts rerouted to her salivary glands. She'd have spit.

    She had her shades surgically implanted, too, as I recall.

    She was kinda cute. Case was lucky.

    -Luigi
     
  7. "Andrew Price" <[email protected]> wrote in message news:<[email protected]>...

    > The only thing I think really works in this situation is
    > to wave and smile as if greeting a friend and treat their
    > horn play as a big hello.

    I know. And this is my general reaction to such things.
    However, yesterday was different, and on this morning's ride
    (quite different weather, seeing how it was pouring rain) I
    had the chance to think about why.

    In general, in my life right now, one of the issues I'm
    struggling with is the need to be right. On the bike,
    yeah, but that's just a teeny piece of it, compared to my
    close interpersonal relationships? Well, just ask someone
    like my husband!

    About a month ago, at a retreat (co-led by Brother Jamal),
    one of the participants said, "I have a choice -- I can be
    right, or I can be happy". This really struck home for me.
    How often have I clung and clung and clung to the need to be
    right, when I could have let it go, admitted that the other
    person had a valid point, improved my relationship and
    communication with that person, and then moved on.

    So, this issue has been coming up in little ways, here and
    there, but you know, sometimes, when you Aren't Getting It,
    the Universe just has a way of hitting you over the head
    with something. And, because the Universe can operate in
    benevolent ways, I got hit on the head yesterday in an
    otherwise positive place. I had had the very fine
    experience of singing, on and off, for four hours in a
    spiritual setting. And then, it was truly a glorious
    morning, blossoms bursting out all over, birds singing --
    the day had a record high of 65 degrees -- a perfect
    morning to be out on the bike.

    So I here I was, biking along, in this very positive space,
    and then this pinhead in a pick-up appears before me, with
    his horn blaring away. And I was so very, very, very right!
    I had a green light! He had a red! He had absolutely no
    right to be sitting on his horn like that! I was totally,
    totally, totally completely in the right, according to the
    law, according to rules governing personal safety, according
    to generally accepted morality. It was MY turn, it was not
    HIS turn, and where did he get off on his behavior?

    And instead of giving him a smile and blowing him a kiss, I
    went straight into knee jerk "I am right, and I am going to
    make you acknowledge it" behavior.

    And what was the result? The moron in the pick-up probably
    didn't give it another thought, except maybe he complained
    to his co-workers about a bitch on a bike once or twice. He
    probably never considered that maybe he was the doofus in
    this circumstance.

    What happened was that I personally suffered. I got bent
    'way out of shape, far more than the situation really
    warrented. It was not fun having jelly legs and feeling
    emotionally whacked out.

    So here it is -- the Universe is telling me, Claire Bear,
    you have the choice -- be right or be happy -- which is it
    that you are going to choose? And if I continue to make a
    choice that is not the healthiest for me, I think I will get
    bigger and harsher opportunities to review the issue.

    > Couple of things will help - you are probably still
    > replaying the incident in your mind

    Actually, no. When it came up while I was rounding Enetai
    beach, with all its associated emotional responses, I
    surrounded the whole scene with light in my mind and let it
    go. While it occasionally has floated back a couple of
    times, after doing that, it hasn't had the emotional charge
    associated with it.

    What I've replayed in my mind much more was my reaction to
    it. A couple things stand out for me. One is, I am grateful
    that I have had access to teachers who have taught me
    techniques in relaxation and meditation that are so helpful
    to me. Second, I am grateful to Mother Nature for just being
    what she is -- the marsh, the bright red patch on the
    blackbird's wing -- these helped me too. And I am grateful
    for friends like Dane who appear when needed, and that he
    was willing to stop and listen and give a hug when needed.

    > [1] My son tells me the bird derives from the middle ages
    > when long bow archers were the most dangerous forces
    > and if captured their middle fingers were either
    > removed or permanently disabled. As opposing armies
    > lined up, the archers in particular liked to hold up
    > their middle finger in a gesture of capability and
    > contempt directed to the opposing forces; the gesture
    > is still with us, without the need to draw a bow
    > string.

    Nah. The gesture is clearly an erect phallus; any
    relationship to archers I bet is coincidental.

    Warm Regards,

    Claire Petersky ([email protected]) Home of the
    meditative cyclist:
    http://home.earthlink.net/~cpetersky/Welcome.htm Email me
    re: the new Tiferet CD (http://www.tiferet.net) See all the
    books I've set free:
    http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky
     
  8. Drs

    Drs Guest

    Claire Petersky <[email protected]> wrote in message
    [email protected]
    > "Andrew Price" <[email protected]> wrote in
    > message news:<[email protected]
    > server.bigpond.net.au>...

    [...]

    >> [1] My son tells me the bird derives from the middle ages
    >> when long bow archers were the most dangerous forces
    >> and if captured their middle fingers were either
    >> removed or permanently disabled. As opposing armies
    >> lined up, the archers in particular liked to hold up
    >> their middle finger in a gesture of capability and
    >> contempt directed to the opposing forces; the gesture
    >> is still with us, without the need to draw a bow
    >> string.
    >
    > Nah. The gesture is clearly an erect phallus; any
    > relationship to archers I bet is coincidental.

    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_finger

    --

    "I'm proud that I live in a country where witnessing two
    hours of bloody, barbarous torture in gloating detail is
    considered indicia of religious piety, whereas a mere second
    gazing upon a woman's breast is cause for outraged
    apoplexy." Betty Bowers,
    http://www.bettybowers.com/melgibsonpassion.html
     
  9. Rick Onanian

    Rick Onanian Guest

    On Tue, 09 Mar 2004 04:29:44 GMT, "Claire Petersky"
    <[email protected]> wrote:
    >without any respite, I wrap my knuckles on the hood of his
    >pick-up, and point at his red light, and his green light.
    >He continues this look of smiling smugness, never letting
    >up on his horn.
    >
    >I rode maybe 200 m (I am very bad at estimating distances
    >of this range), riding just to the top of the initial hill
    >after the trail head, when the adrenaline from the
    >confrontation hits me. I do the girly thing, and burst into
    >tears. I don't mean just my eyes watering. I mean, I've
    >stopped the bike, draped the top half of me on the
    >handlebars, and am seized with big, racking sobs. "Buh-huh-
    >huh! Buh-huh-huh!" as mucus flows freely out of my nose. I
    >manage to hold it down enough that I can actually get back
    >on the bike, and I hope to ride it out.

    Wow! That's great! I wish the guy thing was so harmless. No,
    full of anger and adrenaline, I would have taken drastic,
    direct offensive action, regardless of what I would later
    know I _SHOULD_ have done. That would be very bad.

    >I hate it when I get that completely emotionally consumed.
    >You know, my
    <snip>
    >while to shake it all out. Don't tell me I should have done
    >things like written down the pick-up's license plate
    >number. I didn't have the wherewithal to think of something
    >so rational as that. Rational was not present at the time,
    >you know?

    Indeed, traffic confrontations have the effect of removing
    rationality, even when involving innocent misunderstandings
    and mistakes, let alone how bad it gets when one meets a
    knothead like that. To get so consumed that you flee and
    stop to cry sounds much less counterproductive than how most
    people deal with it.

    When somebody doesn't flee and later cry, you end up with
    TWO knotheads, and one or both end up in trouble legally or
    physically.

    On Tue, 09 Mar 2004 09:48:05 GMT, "Andrew Price"
    <[email protected]> wrote:
    >The only thing I think really works in this situation is to
    >wave and smile as if greeting a friend and treat their horn
    >play as a big hello. Agression or flipping the bird [1]
    >only brings you down to their level - by deliberately
    >claiming acquaintance and recognition leaves the
    >perpetrators in a state of confusion and unhappiness

    Heheheh...like my father says: If you can't dazzle them with
    intelligence, baffle 'em with bullshit! I like it...I must
    remember this strategy for the seemingly inevitable (but not
    yet upon me) day where I have such a confrontation. My
    previous confrontations haven't involved bikes...
    --
    Rick Onanian
     
  10. Max

    Max Guest

    "Claire Petersky" <[email protected]> wrote

    > So I here I was, biking along, in this very positive
    > space, and
    then
    > this pinhead in a pick-up appears before me, with his horn
    > blaring away. And I was so very, very, very right! I had a
    > green light! He
    had
    > a red! He had absolutely no right to be sitting on his
    > horn like
    that!
    > I was totally, totally, totally completely in the right,
    > according
    to
    > the law, according to rules governing personal safety,
    > according
    to
    > generally accepted morality. It was MY turn, it was not
    > HIS turn,
    and
    > where did he get off on his behavior?

    recognizing that i don't know you... I think you're
    overintellectualizing it a bit. You were going along,
    minding your own business when some jerk scared the pants
    off you. Your belligerent response was biologically pre-
    loaded; when we don't have enough time to run, we fight ...
    it's pretty fundamental.

    I'm serious about this -- your recounting of the incident
    sounds like the description of one whopper of an adrenalin
    reaction, and there's a limit on how much cognition and
    repose we can be expected to have under such circumstances.

    If you want to find a philosophical lesson in your
    experience, that's cool, but i think some jerk just pushed
    your buttons when you were not expecting, and were
    particularly emotionally ill prepared for it.

    Shame on him, not on you. It's okay to have a genuine
    human reaction.

    .max
     
  11. On Tue, 9 Mar 2004 13:11:42 -0600, "max" <[email protected]>
    wrote:

    >I'm serious about this -- your recounting of the incident
    >sounds like the description of one whopper of an adrenalin
    >reaction, and there's a limit on how much cognition and
    >repose we can be expected to have under such circumstances.

    And she said that her concern was her own reaction.
    Sometimes examining how you react is a good exercise. Its
    only a problem if you do it every time you react to
    something or someone.

    Curtis L. Russell Odenton, MD (USA) Just someone on
    two wheels...
     
  12. Sam Yorko

    Sam Yorko Guest

    Claire Petersky wrote:
    >>[1] My son tells me the bird derives from the middle ages
    >> when long bow archers were the most dangerous forces
    >> and if captured their middle fingers were either
    >> removed or permanently disabled. As opposing armies
    >> lined up, the archers in particular liked to hold up
    >> their middle finger in a gesture of capability and
    >> contempt directed to the opposing forces; the gesture
    >> is still with us, without the need to draw a bow
    >> string.
    >
    >
    > Nah. The gesture is clearly an erect phallus; any
    > relationship to archers I bet is coincidental.
    >

    That doesn't explain why the British need two fingers while
    we Merkins can get away with one.

    Sam
     
  13. Methuselah

    Methuselah Guest

    On Tue, 09 Mar 2004 04:29:44 GMT, "Claire Petersky"
    <[email protected]> wrote:

    > A pick-up truck, waiting at the right turn lane sits on
    > his horn because I am riding in front of him, and
    > preventing him from immediately whipping around the corner
    > on the right. I come to a dead halt right in front of him,
    > and gape at him in incredulity. How could he *possibly* be
    > honking at me?

    I think I would have reminded myself that often these
    particular drivers treat cars and motorcycles the same way.
    Driving home from work today on the highway, I watched
    Father Darwin claim a red pickup truck and an SUV. It had
    nothing personally to do with you, me, or anyone else. Some
    people are just toxic )*('s, and sooner or later they get
    theirs. I used to have a horrible temper. But about twenty
    years ago, because of business, I became armed. This made me
    aware that under some circumstances the situation you
    described could have, with the appropriate surge of
    adrenalin and testosterone, escalated to deadly levels very
    quickly. Knowing such, I suffered no more road rage. Oh, I
    hated such confrontations, but was always able to quench the
    feeling by reciting the mantra to myself, "I could BREAK
    your pickup truck with one finger." Whatever works.
     
  14. Zoot Katz

    Zoot Katz Guest

    Tue, 09 Mar 2004 08:00:36 -0500,
    <[email protected]>,
    Luigi de Guzman <[email protected]> wrote:

    >>Molly Millions, a William Gibson character, had her tear
    >>ducts rerouted to her salivary glands. She'd have spit.
    >
    >She had her shades surgically implanted, too, as I recall.
    >
    >She was kinda cute. Case was lucky.

    The movie "Johnny Mnemonic" was a big disappointment for me
    because she didn't have the implants.
    --
    zk
     
  15. Roy Zipris

    Roy Zipris Guest

    [email protected] (Claire Petersky) wrote [snip]
    > "I have a choice -- I can be right, or I can be happy".

    Sometimes--not always, but sometimes--it is more important
    to be right than happy--that's how we make incremental
    change in the world, I believe. --Roy Zipris
     
  16. "Roy Zipris" <[email protected]> wrote in message
    news:[email protected]...
    > [email protected] (Claire Petersky) wrote [snip]
    > > "I have a choice -- I can be right, or I can be happy".
    >
    > Sometimes--not always, but sometimes--it is more important
    > to be right than happy--that's how we make incremental
    > change in the world, I believe.

    That's a different meaning to the word, "right".

    Warm Regards,

    Claire Petersky Please replace earthlink for mouse-potato
    and .net for .com

    Home of the meditative cyclist:
    http://home.earthlink.net/~cpetersky/Welcome.htm Email me
    re: the new Tiferet CD (http://www.tiferet.net)
     
  17. Frkrygow

    Frkrygow Guest

    Claire Petersky wrote:

    >
    > So I here I was, biking along, in this very positive
    > space, and then this pinhead in a pick-up appears before
    > me, with his horn blaring away. And I was so very, very,
    > very right!...
    >
    > And instead of giving him a smile and blowing him a kiss,
    > I went straight into knee jerk "I am right, and I am going
    > to make you acknowledge it" behavior.
    >
    > And what was the result? The moron in the pick-up probably
    > didn't give it another thought...
    >
    > What happened was that I personally suffered.

    Claire, I'd consider it from a different perspective. Think
    about it in the context of society at large, not just as a
    one-on-one encounter. Smiling and blowing a kiss might have
    made you less uncomfortable in the end, but there's
    something to be said for standing up for other cyclists.

    As it actually happened, you demonstrated to the jerk that
    you won't be intimidated by his obnoxious behavior.
    (Thankfully, he didn't see the subsequent tears.)

    For anyone else viewing the incident, you probably invoked
    sympathy and even admiration for standing up to him -
    especially given the respective genders. Next time someone
    writes a "damned cyclists" letter to the editor, those who
    saw the event will be more disposed to our side.

    Pacifism has its good points, I suppose, but in this world
    a little demonstration of personal strength can help
    promote change for the better. I'd say your immediate
    reaction helped.

    The subsequent, private reaction is just an internal thing.
    You can deal with it as you see fit. Just find a way to
    (literally) not lose any sleep over it.

    The only thing I'd change would be to next time, get the
    license number. And if you get it very obviously - like,
    pointing to the plate, mouthing the letters, writing it down
    - so much the better. If you think about this ahead of time,
    you'll be more likely to remember in the moment of stress.

    --
    Frank Krygowski [To reply, omit what's between "at" and
    "cc"]

    ------------ And now a word from our sponsor ------------------
    Do your users want the best web-email gateway? Don't let
    your customers drift off to free webmail services install
    your own web gateway! -- See
    http://netwinsite.com/sponsor/sponsor_webmail.htm ----
     
  18. Roy Zipris

    Roy Zipris Guest

    "Claire Petersky" <[email protected]> wrote
    > That's a different meaning to the word, "right".

    I *think* I understood your meaning correctly. But I read
    your experience this way: it's important to take a stand
    sometimes, even at the risk of discomfort. You were right
    and in the right. That, to me, was worth standing up for,
    and perhaps, by acting as you did, you might have opened a
    glimmer of understanding in that fellow's skull, thereby
    making your world and his a better place. You're being hard
    on yourself needlessly in retrospect.

    On the other hand, who among us has not acted or reacted in
    ways that we later regret? The wonders of human
    imperfection!

    By the way, I've had some wonderfully serene moments on golf
    courses, playing alone in the early morning, with only
    foxes, deer, and other creatures for company. True, these
    occasions were not connected to conferences and large
    crowds. Enjoy Vancouver and riding there. --RZ
     
  19. Rick Onanian

    Rick Onanian Guest

    On Wed, 10 Mar 2004 00:38:21 -0500, "frkrygow"
    <"frkrygow"@omitcc.ysu.edu> wrote:
    >The only thing I'd change would be to next time, get the
    >license number. And if you get it very obviously - like,
    >pointing to the plate, mouthing the letters, writing it
    >down - so much the better. If you think about this ahead
    >of time, you'll be more likely to remember in the moment
    >of stress.

    I don't think it would be good to make it obvious that
    you're getting the plate number while you're directly in
    front of his vehicle. He was a knothead, and could become a
    violent, deadly knothead if he goes from angry to more
    angry & scared. Claire has children who need to continue to
    have a mother...else, they could grow up to be knotheads
    honking at cyclists.
    --
    Rick Onanian
     
  20. Frkrygow

    Frkrygow Guest

    Rick Onanian wrote:
    >
    > I don't think it would be good to make it obvious that
    > you're getting the plate number while you're directly in
    > front of his vehicle. He was a knothead, and could become
    > a violent...

    Oh, I wouldn't worry. I've done it before - or rather, my
    wife did it from the back seat of our tandem, when a pickup
    was tailgating us mercilessly. He dropped back pretty
    quickly and behaved himself.

    --
    Frank Krygowski [To reply, omit what's between "at" and
    "cc"]
     
Loading...
Loading...