The other night at an artist party, one of my best friends (and a bloody wicked singer / songwriter who taught me most of the chords I know), Ari Neufeld, began to unravel the deepest parts of his soul before he played a couple of his tunes. This is one of the things I like most about Ari because you can always count on him to drop the most inappropriate (yet uncomfortably true) bombs during his set.
“Men only have 2 emotions: Horny, and Anger”.
This line has not only been buzzing around my head for the past week, sharing it with anyone old enough to understand, but it also got me thinking about a series of articles I wrote (called Haut Air) for a magazine that a friend of mine started called Progaganda. This one is called Bank Rage and while we’re talking about being angry I thought it might be appropriate to include it. (download the full magazine here FREE)
Ever heard of BANK RAGE before? Neither have I.
Other types of rage you may have heard of though would be Hockey Dad Rage, Telemarketer Rage, Spousal Rage, Postal Rage, and the most common of them all…ROAD RAGE.
I proudly and honestly will state before my computer screen that I am not known for having Road Rage – in fact I would say that I’m actually a pretty patient and forgiving driver. In general, I accept the fact that people are stupid drivers and make honest mistakes. Like this one time a guy cut me off and sent me and my pregnant wife into a cement block causing $1500 worth of damage to my Jeep. Sure I was pissed (not drunk, the other kind) but he probably had a really important text message to send and had no idea we even crashed. The other day, however, was different when I met the Jackass of all trades on the road…
Let me paint you a visual.
I’m driving my son to his soccer game and this big ol’ camper van is in front of me. If he was driving any slower he’d be going backwards but that’s not the point. Our lane then turns into 3 where there are 2 left hand turning lanes before the stop light. The left side is open so I, in a very mellow fashion, cruise into this lane while bobbing my head to some 90’s Beastie Boys tune I wanted my son to be introduced to. Next thing I know, as I’m right beside Mr. Camper-Van-Man, he decides to pull into my lane which practically sends me into the meridian. With my James Bond-style driving skills I was able to avoid an accident and didn’t even have to put ear muffs on my son to utter the nice words I was thinking. Yes, I chose the road less travelled by. Aaaaaawww.
Now, what’s funny is that if someone makes a mistake like that and they end up having to pull up beside you at the traffic light, you normally look over at them as if they had just intentionally clubbed your mom in the back of the head with a cast iron hockey stick and mouth some words that look like you’re saying “vacuum”. I decided not even to look at Mr. Van-Idiot.
But as we were stopped at the light, I couldn’t help but notice him out of the corner of my eye. He was about 86 years old and had that “mom-clubbing” glare going on, shaking his head at me while mouthing the words “You F***ing Idiot” over and over.
I was so angry I think I may have even peed a little.
I had just demonstrated grace to Mr. Old-School and he had the cahonas to actually get mad at me for a mistake that HE made. What a friggin’ anus.
I felt like drowning his cat in front of him.
Road rage is funny though – people are so tough when they’re in the safety of their own car. Ragers are totally confident waving fingers and hurling heinous insults around but you never see this display of affection at a bank, do you? Can you imagine witnessing a full-contact banking session with a Bank Rager? No. When someone cuts the line in front of you at a bank you totally become this Mother-Teresa-sponsoring, door-opening, marmot-loving, compliment-slinging, mild-mannered person.
So, as tourist season in the Okanagan is here along with drivers that you dream about burying in shallow graves in your backyard, try and picture the road like a bank and settle down. They’ll be dead soon enough.
Keep your stick on the ice.