I was walking through the grocery store parking lot, heading in to pick up a few supplies. Just minding my own business. A middle school kid on an e-bike swerved to miss an approaching car and braked to a sudden halt ten feet in front of me.
"How do you like my bike?" he yelled. Yelled. Like we knew each other.
It was sudden and unexpected, a character in a movie breaking the fourth wall and talking to the audience directly from the screen.
I have many opinions on e-bikes but they all make me sound like a grumpy old man. So I simply said, "Great."
"Do you know what it cost me?"
He looked too young to have a job. But maybe he mows lawns. I mowed a lot of lawns to make a buck when I was his age. But no one mows their own lawn in suburban Orange County, let alone go door to door to ask if the guy with the messy grass wants to pay to have it done. So I just gave the kid the benefit of the doubt and assumed he was very thrifty with birthday money from his grandparents.
"How much?"
"Six thousand bucks," he answered gleefully. And I do mean gleefully, as if he'd struck the mother lode.
"Good for you," I said, still walking. I tried to sound like I meant it. Sarcasm would have been mean. He zoomed away, no doubt in search of someone else with whom to share his good fortune.
As I walked into Pavilions, my first thought was, "This is great for the blog. I can't make this shit up."
My second was to mentally conjure the litany of petty meaningless gripes that bother me on a day to day basis: middle schoolers popping wheelies on e-bikes as they weave in and out of traffic, extended bed pickups sticking out into the middle of a parking garage, people who insist on halting the flow of traffic to back into parking spots, small yippy dogs, and on. Like I said, they all make me sound like a cranky old man. If any of these apply to you, please forgive me. I'm sure you have your own litany, one of which might include opinionated authors.
Then I got around to wondering why all those things bugged me, and I honestly had no idea. None of them inconvenience me all that much. They're part of daily life, but not part of my own life, meaning that we don't have a middle schooler or an e-bike in the house. They're just something I encounter out around town.
And I don't think it's about change. I'm a creature of routine and habit, but I have no problem with a wrinkle in the landscape. I was out running in O'Neill the other day, coming down a beautiful tree-covered trail known as Twisty Tire. A voice called out from behind, shouting for me to get out of the way. I turned to see a guy on one of those single-wheel motorized unicycles negotiating the rutted path. It annoyed me that he was on the path at all — park signs specifically stating that motorized vehicles are not allowed on the trails. But hey, I've trespassed enough and thumbed my nose at so many rules that I am not technically in a position to judge some guy who's on the verge of a gruesome crash because he made a bad life choice by bombing downhill on a mono-cycle. And did I mention that poison oak grows on both sides of that trail? That would be some crash.
I just think it's fun to be irritated now and then. Not complaining. Just the littlest bit ticked. OK, maybe cranky.
So I hope that kid enjoys his 6k e-bike. I also hope he purchases a helmet. That's his jam right now. Who am I to steal his joy?