Monday, January 29, 2007

Righteous Indignation

Is it only I, or does everyone have a storehouse of RI, Righteous Indignation? 

This night, I pulled the plug on my RI storehouse and let the flames drain into the hall.  I am now trying to put the flames back into the box.  This mixed metaphor means only this:  We have a resident who roams the halls at night shouting.  I opened my door and shouted back, expressing my RI.

Once I had flamed, I cooled and reconsidered.  That poor old fellow has an incurable malady, Mesotheleoma. It was caused in his case by his occupation.  He used to work with automobile brake linings and they used to contain asbestos. Grinding the brake linings to fit the brake drums filled the air, and his lungs with asbestos fiber. Now he has trouble breathing...and it is not going to get any better.

No wonder he is in perpetual distress.  And I shouted at him. 

When I got over my Righteous Indignation, I began to reconsider: actually, I like to get up and write in my journal at night. He just gave me an excuse to do so.

My RI flared up at the dinner table one night recently.  Some slight made my temper flare and I tried to stomp out in RI.  But in  a wheelchair you cannot stomp out and slam doors.  Before I was completely out of the dining room I realized how ridiculous it was, trying to roll quietly out in RI.  Just can't have a tantrum in a wheelchair. Instead of swearing, I started laughing at myself.

I am sorry I have an over supply of RI.  I am glad it usually passes quickly.

7 comments:

garnett109 said...

never hide your feeling it causes stress .

plieck30 said...

At least you know you have RI and it passes quickly. Everyone just has to let it out once in a while. paula

hewasolddog299 said...

RI is tough to express when you are depressed, so glad to see that's eased up for you...

Now go to the bike shop and get a horn -- use THAT to express your indignation -- only your fellow residents will be likely to know who made the barking horn famous -- most of the staff will be too young to know who Harpo Marx even was...

tendernoggle said...

I hate to say it Chuck, but I am sort of glad the guy was yelling in the hall again...lol It made you write about it and it gave me a great laugh! lol
love ya,
carlene

reconcilinglife said...

well Chuck...you are human....we all have RI sometimes...lol. Bam

jocalodave said...

 I love the writing:  You can't stomp out of the room in a wheelchair.

 But I wonder if you couldn't take advantage of the fact that you travel on wheels designed to carry a load and are equipped with a pretty reliable power supply? How about mounting a big-time speaker somewhere -- preferably forward-facing so you can confront your antagonists.

A bank of buttons mounted within arm's reach could offer all kinds of sound effects, including several designed to reflect RI. But imagine the reaction that hallway hollerer might have had to the sound of squealing car brakes behind him? And forget about mere stomping -- which is rather ineffective on concrete floors anyway. You could sound explosions, react as an angry mob (recorded directly from Frankenstein, perhaps), or simply play that taunting tune that probably comes to mind when you consider the lyrics: "Charlie's got a girl friend..."

With your musical talent -- and creative use of one of your synthesizers, you could provide melodic satire to ridicule those who offend you. I can see that keyboard stored in a vertical configuration (resembling a shark's fin), ready to be swung down into action for indignation, entertainment or just for the hell of it.

Add a microphone and you can take that act on the road.

Roll on, brother!

correyputton said...

i better ask my uncle not have job like your neighbour, he is also a mechanic, grinding his customer's brake lining to fit the <a href="http://www.replacementgeneralparts.com/gm-brake-drum">GM brake drums</a>... It not so great having a illness like malady... By the way most people has RI we are all humans, you know... We just have to be more desciplined enough not to have righteous indignation often...