motorcyclemeditation.com

Pulling up on the motorcycle at the lights in front of a long stuttering queue of traffic, a practice so routine as hardly to register. Today however, the situation yielding some entertainment.

A car window winding down, common precursor to aggression. On the motorcycle, carefully indifferent. Meanwhile making microscopic adjustments to posture, the effect being hopefully to exude lazy nonchalance. This technique honed over years of continuous combat hardening over long years of upbringing with an older sister. The objective being, engineer a big increase in temperature the other end, but if you yourself overheat, you lose.

The motorist gesticulating and shouting. Oh good, sometimes the window goes down, your hopes go up, it’s just someone wanting to have a buddy-buddy chat about the traffic or weather. On this occasion, the motorist having strong opinions about something. Motorcycles maybe, or perhaps my personal riding habits. Part of the technique, you have to deflect from your mind the actual content, concentrate rigidly on the incendiary possibilities, lose sight of them and your own temperature starts rising.

This motorist combusting nicely. All without effort from me other than the minor discipline of pretending not to notice. A self evidently preposterous proposition given the noise and agitation. Nonetheless, just about thinly excusable on the basis of wearing motorcycle earplugs, should the need ever arise to give wounded innocence explanations to any authorities that subsequently emerge, parents, headmasters, police, suchlike.

Things getting really exciting now. Here before us, Specimen A, road rage. The motorist preparing to leap out, eager for physical confrontation. The plan frustrated by being unable to open the car door. Blocked by the motorcycle. Oh dear. Sitting on the motorcycle, thinking, what would my sister do. Remembering. About to say, would you like me to move my motorcycle so you can open your door, well don’t forget to say please.

This little street comedy however interrupted by the lights turning green. On the motorcycle, pulling imperturbably away. The car roaring forward, twenty yards maybe, then stopping, more traffic. The motorcycle by that time long gone.