Anger Mismanagement

Last week Anon left a comment on the blog which, among other things, advised Wonderman to get angrier. They have a point: there are, after all, many things to get angry about. This morning, however, I was feeling mellow as I sipped coffee in the sunshine, sitting on a terrace overlooking a moderately busy intersection of the city's back streets. Even the people passing by appeared to be enjoying the fine weather as they went about their business. It was a feel-good morning - but not for all of us: every now and then the blare of a horn would disturb the harmony and I would look up to witness a bad-tempered protest from a driver - a twisted face mouthing curses, an arm raised in protest or exasperation. For most a single toot and accompanying curse was sufficient, but one driver, a balding, middle-aged man in an expensive-looking, open-top Mercedes, sustained his rage for much longer. Yet he ought, with his nice car and the fine weather, to have been enjoying the driving experience more than most.

I amused myself, from my lofty vantage point, by adjudicating on whether or not the various protests were justified. If a driver infringed the rules cynically or deliberately then I would empathise with the protesters but, when it came to an obvious case of a driver being indecisive, or bewildered, I judged that they did not deserve to be bullied by the tooting of horns or humiliated with derisive sneers. Surely as drivers we know that we all make mistakes? Our inability (or unwillingness) to distinguish between selfish and hesitant driving is a good argument in favour of the driverless cars we have been promised.

I experienced a bout of road-rage myself this week - albeit as a pedestrian. A driver turned in front of me as I was crossing a side street. His window was down so I called out to protest that he had not signalled his intention to turn. His response was a finger in the air as he drove off. Insult added to injury is a potent mix so now it was my turn to be angry. Why should I get an insult when an apology was due? I determined to pursue the point and walked briskly after him as he dawdled along the side street looking for a place to park. With a real possibility of being able to catch up with him it dawned on me that I had better prepare my argument - and my defence. Remembering that, by chance, I was carrying a heavy wrench in my rucksack I took it out it and concealed it behind my back in case things turned ugly. Fortunately he drove off (I don't believe it was because of the wrench) and I found myself confronted instead by a group of religious proselytisers proffering leaflets and promoting peace, harmony and tolerance. I can never resist the argument I relish most - the one which pits faith against reason - and so, guiltily clutching my concealed weapon, I engaged with them until I had made my point, my outrage had dissolved and I had become, once more, the tolerant, reasonable, civic-minded paragon I always believe myself to be.

I suspect that this little flare-up of anger is not what Anon had in mind: a sustained torrent is more likely - one which motivates effective action in the cause of righting wrongs and campaigning against injustice. If that is the case I had better keep my powder dry for the big battles and not be drawn into petty disputes over rights of way. Mind you, if you give them an inch...