No, the Beach Boys didn’t sing a song about good frustrations. They were right not to because “good vibrations” flows much better. Who doesn’t want good vibrations, after all? That said, we all know most days have at least a little bit of frustration attached to them. You’re hearing the Beach Boys in your head now, aren’t you? Frustrating if you don’t like the Beach Boys, isn’t it?
As you’re reading this, keep in mind that you can find some sort of altercation every day of your life if you allow it. For some, the drama is a drug. For others, the struggle is something that “only” happens to them and they don’t know why. For me, gratefully, I usually just roll with it and try to avoid conflict where possible. I would like to think I am restrained by something I read the other day on @imgur: “If you lose one sense, your other senses become enhanced. That’s why people with no sense of humor have a heightened sense of self-importance.”
Last week, while taking my daughter to the orthodontist, two grown adults on bikes pulled out in front of our car. They never even looked nor did they give any indication that they were aware they could have been, or maybe should have been, mowed down. Good thing they had their helmets on. Safety first, kids. It’s bad enough when children are reckless in this manner. Kids will be kids, and their parents should be chastised for not teaching them any better. No, these people were likely in their 60’s. Old enough to know better and definitely old enough that it’s surprising they’ve survived as long as they have. This can go back to my concept of wisdom being wasted on the old.
Good thing I employ lalochezia often and enthusiastically. Lalochezia is the emotional relief gained from using abusive and profane language. I am frequently fluent with my lalochezia game. Yes, I have a potty mouth. It all started in my rebellious youth, but I’m glad I kept the habit for its stress-relieving qualities. I am aware some find it offensive, that it sounds unintelligent, and wasn’t the best example for my daughter. That said, I can’t help myself.
We fast-forward to the orthodontist’s office to find a compact car taking up two spots in a very tight parking lot. This is another version of those people on bikes. This screams to me, “there ain’t nobody else in this world”. The arrogance and entitlement are head-scratchers. These little things are scoffed at by the toxically positive among us, but it speaks to a thoughtless nature. Most appreciate thoughtful people, do they not? Mindfulness comes in many forms.
As I’m sitting there staring at the Honda Civic through the waiting room window, I pondered what brand of a$$hole the driver was. At that moment, a guy starts texting on his phone in the orthodontist’s waiting room. The keystroke sound is turned UP, so you can hear each character he feverishly pounds out. Congress has tried to legislate some really silly stuff over the years, but I submit a congressperson could win reelection over promising to ban keystroke sounds on all future cell phone production. Yes, iPhones, too. I know you’re better than the rest of us, but this fictional congressperson up for their twentieth reelection has a jitterbug phone. It gets better reception and we don’t need all those bells and whistles.
Back to Mr. Texter McTexterton: Yep, you guessed it, he then received a phone call. I was surprised he didn’t put it on speaker and start pacing around the orthodontist office. He probably saves the speaker feature for the grocery store. I mean, how does the person on the other end of the phone even hear s***? What didn’t surprise me was that I COULD CLEARLY HEAR HIS END OF THE CONVERSATION in the orthodontist office. The person in the bathroom could probably just hear garbles, but I’m sure glad to know he had to SWING BY HIS OFFICE AFTER DROPPING HIS CHILD BACK AT SCHOOL, BUT NOT BEFORE HE WENT TO GREYCO!
I have a theory regarding people, in general: I think most people are good-natured, well-meaning folk with at least a sense of what a sense of humor is like. All that said, we all have our lapses—our bad days and moments, so give your fellow human the grace they likely deserve on a graceless day. Someone has probably done the same for you and you just don’t know how close you came to being a crime-of-passion statistic.
My recent trip to Disney World illustrated this point to me. If you haven’t been there, it’s a world, slam-packed with people from all over the globe speaking all sorts of languages representing all sorts of ideals. That said, most people are courteous enough. It’s easy and humanly natural for me to focus on that one dips*** that blasted past my family waiting patiently for two handicapped dudes trying to the best of their limited abilities to get in the correct line. I usually don’t say anything because of my desire to avoid becoming the d-bag that has drawn my ire, but a knee-jerk grunt in his direction told the tale of my appalled emotions. Oh yes, he heard me. I’m sure his time is far more important than us little people. And since I possess the ability to see both sides of the coin, I will say that this fella may not have even been aware of the struggle that was going on in front of us. Not for me to say, but it is for me/us to consider before losing our collective cool and making something out of nothing. I’m glad our special family trip that will be talked about for decades by us won’t be marred by an incident that didn’t need to be escalated.
So, after dropping my daughter back at school after the orthodontist, I made my way back to Fripp to get a bit of work done. Upon pulling on to the island, who do I see? Yep, the older couple on the bikes were still out riding. They were all over the road and just as oblivious as the moment I laid eyes on the them for the first time. First impressions… Some people never learn, but we can. This day was a reminder that patience is a virtue, perhaps it’s the virtue. If we had and have more patience with one another where would we be collectively?
While I wish that we could purge frustrations from our existence, it’s not meant to be that way on this side of the veil. Everyone, including you, is bound to throw a curve-ball that gives someone, unintended or not, the blues. “Road rage” is the highway to the danger zone of facing one’s self. The question is: Where does it all end?
