Initiating Rudeness

    Honking motorists shattered the quietude of my neighborhood.
    Traffic had been delayed for roadwork. But the stoppage time, four to five minutes, wasn’t all that aggravating. Other drivers had waited with patience. Why did this group of drivers lean on their horns?
   The noise erupted after a single driver unleashed a long honk. Other drivers took his cue. They honked over and over again.
   By and large, most drivers act polite. They avoid rudeness. But sometimes, when they’re seething over a delay, their politeness is tested. They want to honk but not until someone else honks first.
    A first honker might be perceived as a jerk. But not the honkers who follow him. By honking together, drivers rationalize themselves into thinking they’re not being rude.

Unwitting Contributor

Trees photographed on Appalachian Trail in Massachusetts.

    A splash of red appeared. I stopped hiking, reached for my camera, and composed a photo of a red leafed tree. It was mid October. Autumn colors were approaching their peak.
    The angle of view wasn’t to my liking. I moved off the hiking trail and stood among waist high brush. My view of the tree improved. Photos were taken.
    I noticed another tree. It stood beside the red one. What a striking difference. The branches on the neighboring tree were almost devoid of leaves. Was the tree sickly or dying? Nearby trees had not yet shed their leaves.
    In past autumns, that sickly tree must have blazed with color. Maybe its seeds germinated the red tree. Nature is a cycle of birth, growth, reproduction, and death.
    Back on the trail, I muttered a curse. Burs had clung to my jacket. They had taken hold surreptitiously, while the photos were being taken. I never should have ventured off the trail.
    Removing the burs took several minutes. I tossed them aside.
    Burs plants aren’t only sneaky, they’re ingenious. By attaching their burs to animals or people, their seeds disperse across a landscape.
    While photographing nature’s cycle of growth and death, I was contributing to that cycle.

Familiar Strangers

    I knew every stranger in the room, even though I’d never set eyes on them before. Sound contradictory?
    A photo assignment led me to an Irish American dance hall. It was located near Boston.
    Visiting the hall was like going back to my youth. Everyone there reminded me of an aunt or uncle on my father’s side of the family. Those relations, like the dancers, were Irish in heritage.
    I felt a kinship with every stranger in the dance hall. I knew their values and I shared their values. Catholicism was a big part of it.
    It is my belief that most folks, given the choice, prefer living among people who share their heritage and values.

Meticulous Road to Success

I posed an employee at Merriam Webster beside a bust of Noah Webster.

    Imagine learning twenty-six languages.
    Noah Webster undertook that challenge. Meticulousness drive him to that extreme. Over the course of two-and-a-half decades, he researched the etymology of words. In the 1828, he published ‘An American Dictionary of the English Language.’ It was our nation's first dictionary.
   The novelist J.R.R. Tolkein was meticulous. He rewrote parts of his novel, The Lord of the Rings, after it had been published. He changed the phases of the moon. They weren’t correctly sequenced in the first edition.
    Guitarist Jimi Hendrix was meticulous in the studio. Days before recording, he would write voluminous amounts of information on yellow legal pads. These writings specified plans for how each song would be recorded. This meticulousness continued inside the studio. Rolling Stone Magazine quoted a former recording engineer: “He (Jimi) would do take after take, then want the gear moved around if he wasn’t getting the right sound.”
    Meticulousness is a time hog. It requires patience and perseverance. But in the end, meticulousness contributes to success.

Personal Space

A man reads alone, apart from other patrons, inside a library near Boston.

    While visiting a library, I noticed that most people sat by themselves. So did I.
    People don’t want their personal space intruded upon by strangers. It creates an awkward vibe. But if a setting is already crowded, than occupying nearby seats is acceptable.
    Years ago, an awkward situation presented itself.
    I walked into an exercise room at a hotel. The space was small. Just five stationary bikes. They were lined up side by side.
    The fourth bike offered a high seat. It was perfect for me. My legs were long. The other seats were way too low.
   A young woman was the only other person there. She was peddling on a stationary bike. It was situated at the end of the line of bikes.
    I wondered whether or not to mount the fourth bicycle. It was located beside the woman. Would she think I was hitting on her?
   Another option was available. I could explain to her the situation. But initiating a conversation would also be awkward. She wore earphones. Her legs were churning. She was immersed in a trance of exercise and music. I didn't want to snap her out of that groove.
    I worked up a nerve and sat upon the fourth bicycle. My legs revved up the wheels. My workout began.
    Moments later, the woman stepped away from her bike and left the room.