The High Road

Gosh, I tried. I really did. Based on all the huge discussion going on over on the Block Island Blog over the last week or so, I thought "Hey, Warbler, put your money where your mouth is...try a little tenderness." After I finished singing my much needed song cue, I did try. I drove as I expect others to drive. I got over on the shoulder to let the jerk who was six inches off my bumper go round - I even shrugged it off when they craned their heads to stare at me like "What's wrong with this broad?" I passed safely and waved thanks to bicyclists who actually went out of their way to cooperate and share the road. And just when I thought "Hey, I might be able to do this after all", I got behind the little truck with the two guys passing a doob and weaving all over the road. Then I got behind the group of twenty something girls who hadn't ridden bikes in over ten years pedaling so slowly that they couldn't even keep their bikes in ONE lane...but the kicker, and here's where this post starts differing from the BIB (and don't you love the bylines we're giving each other these days?)...driving by the Spring House I see a couple stopped on the sidewalk, each holding a little girls hands as she wails at the top of her lungs. The (much older) father is leaning over her, obviously to speak comforting and calming words and I slow down to see if I need to offer any assistance (I had a cold Key Lime Soda in the car, I could have applied it to any big goose eggs) when I caught an earful of the father yelling "You! You! You! You always think it's about you! You're so selfish!" Now, folks, this little girl couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old and she's screaming in a way that could only be called anguished. I was ashamed for the man. She's 6 years old, you SOB! Of course she's selfish! God! And obviously you're taking this moment to teach her all about being a giving and compassionate person, eh? Sure, I lose my temper and sometimes speak harshly, too. And who knows? Maybe she's a brat extraordinaire and they had been dealing with some extreme crankiness - but she's a kid for [insert chosen expletive here] sake.

And then something even more shocking happened. I drove on. Partly because I have promised my husband that I will stop getting involved - uninvited - in other people's business (and I have also had to promise I will stop shouting out the window. I never, ever, used to experience road rage until I moved to BI) unless it is a life, limb or safety issue. The other part is that I didn't want to cause a huge thing in front of my children. Here was an opportunity to show my extremely 13 year old what it might mean in the life of a child if someone were to intervene on their behalf and I drove on. Fear for my own safety, I think was the motivating factor. And that's not okay by me. After all my family members have been put through from people who looked the other way while my daughter was being treated cruelly by her biological mother and I might have just possibly done the same thing?

I can still see this poor little girl's face. The "oh, God, please stop yelling at me, please!" face. The one that is usually reserved for "Stop yelling at me, you moron" adolescents who know more than you and think everything is a huge melodrama. She was too young to know that face. If she's a brat, folks, there's a reason (yeah, yeah, sometimes there's good parents with bad kids, sometimes vice versa and sometimes everybody involved is just having a bad day). If she's wonderful, there's a reason. All children (with a few Dahmer-esque exceptions) are born good, wonderful people. And all children are selfish, it's part of survival. It is the role of the parent to teach, not to humiliate. The world will do enough of that all her life.

The mother? Standing silently, looking the other way, completely uninvolved in the whole thing.

So, folks, today...shame on me. I did not take the high road. I only talked about it.