Happy Fun Cog

I've been in my apartment on this beautiful holiday weekend, being all productive 'n shit, but have been driven to distraction and anger for the past few hours by a rigmarole* of loud noises, namely motorcycle noises. As I believe that I've noted in this blog on previous occasions, my apartment is on a main inter-town route on the Western fringe of the Boston area.

I don't know if it's because it's a combination of rural environment with easy access to large cities or if there's something specific about the population, but Western Mass has a lot of motorcyclists, more than I've ever seen in any area that I've ever lived in (Arkansas, Vermont, and various regions of the Boston area). These are the types of motorcyclists who specifically drive large Harley-type bikes.

As such, I have a lot of loud motorcycles driving by my apartment on a regular basis, and there are people who live in the neighborhood who have motorcycles as well. I know why motorcycles are loud; beyond the stylistic element, there's the safety element, namely that the sound of motorcycles lets people in cars know that motorcycles are about.

But as an introvert I loathe loud noises, and the motorcycles are driving me insane. Today has been especially bad - one of my neighbors decided to spend a few hours in his driveway, revving his Harley's engine. I spent a lot of time being angry about it. A journal entry I was writing quickly devolved into me just writing paragraph after paragraph of hateful words about these people, their socioeconomic status, their intelligence, the size of their genetelia, etc.

And now I stop myself, and I think, what's the point? What do I gain from being angry about it? Is there anything I can do to stop it? No. Is there any benefit in basting in my own anger? No. In fact, it makes it hard for me to do anything else because I'm so wrapped up in the emotion.

So, really, the only thing that I can do that's actually helpful, that's actually beneficial to myself and what I'm trying to accomplish (namely writing), is to do whatever it takes to stop being angry, whether that's closing all my windows to block out the noise (which means I don't get to enjoy the breeze) or giving myself a homemade lobotomy with an ice pick and reality television.

I think one of the appealing things about anger is that it makes you feel like you have some control over an environment, by dint of your emotional interaction with the situation. But when what you're angry about is a part of the environment, something you can't control, then you have to realize that the only thing you can control is how it impacts you. Hmm...


*I object to the spelling of this word. There is very clearly an "uh" sound between "rig" and "marole"