Whinging, with a "G", which we've lost

The British version of English is a wonderful thing. They have words we don't. They even toss extra letters into their stuff, and it's really neat. Like a recipe for a favorite dish with which you're so familiar you just throw it together without a lot of thought. Then you go someplace and it's there and boom, they've mixed it up. Added a little sumpthin' that kicks you back on your heels and surprises you.

Take the word 'whine'. That's one. Americans say 'whine' and 'would you like a little cheese with that whine' and it's customary and okay.

Then, when I started hanging out with my Brit buds, I started learning new words - really cool words, like 'gobsmacked'.

I love that word. I love that word so well I wish I had more occasions on which it would be appropriate to use. But that one is a Charlotte Russe of a word - only brought out for really special occasions, like Christmas.

Whinge is another one. It means the same thing as 'whine'. Except, with that 'g' tucked in there, I can both see and hear the snot-faced three-year old tugging mummy's skirt because s/he's not getting that whatever it is that they want.

So what's the point of this, other than saying again how well I like words?

Because I'm trying hard not to whinge. It's not nice. It's unpleasant for the listener or hearer or viewer. Yes, it is something we all do from time-to-time, but that doesn't make it okay because, in the final analysis, what does whinging ever do for us? Nothing. Not a thing except, maybe in the right company, get you murmurs of sympathy and commiseration. But those are cold comfort, too.

I was raised in a family where whinging wasn't tolerated. Nothing momentous would happen to the whinger. There was no punishment, no 'oh shut it, will you?'. It was just ignored or, if it went on long enough to be really annoying, a firm declaration of 'then do something about it'. And there is the crux of it.

If you can do something about it, you use precious time and energy whinging about it. Of course, it could be a double-team effort. You whinge while you work - a working whinge if you will. But that really doesn't accomplish much because if you're solving the problem about which you're complaining, you soon won't have anything about which to complain.

If you can't do anything about it, what's the point of whinging? You're not accomplishing anything. It's beyond your control. All you're doing is irritating those around you. Particularly if it's anything more than a brief outburst. Like, "God! I hate that!!" Pithy, general, non-specific so listeners, unless it's obvious, won't see or know what you hate, but it's pithy and that's pretty good.

And here we are. After spiraling in on that point, I'm at the heart of it. The reason behind all that above. Headlights. Or, more specifically, fucking morons without a lick of sense or consideration for other drivers who don't know how to operate the bloody things.

Can you tell this is a hot button? Does that term 'fucking moron' show it? Well, it's precisely how I feel.

Now that it's winter again, with the short days and longer nights, I'm commuting home in the evening in the dark. I drive along narrow, two-lane roads that twist and wind and have deer and raccoons and skunks lurking in the underbrush, waiting to pounce as I drive by. Nobody (me) wants to run down Bambi or Flower or Rocky*, so we all turn our high beams on so we can see what lies ahead. The concept there is that there is actually a switch - a toggle - that allows drivers to switch between low beams and high beams.

When the way is clear, with no oncoming vehicles, you turn on the high beams. When another car approaches, you turn them down at the point at which you think those beams will become annoying and dangerous. Then, when your car passes theirs, you turn them up again - assuming there's not another car coming.

The problem is, there are a whole lot of fucking morons (FM) out there who will not turn down their high beams when they approach another car. They leave them on - blinding the other driver (me) - and making the process of passing one another far more dangerous than it already is by nature. Worse is the FM who gets behind you, close enough to ensure they'll get your phone number if Bambi or Flower or Rocky does leap in front of your car, and leaves their high beams on.

I have been known to get so annoyed that I adjust my rear view mirror so that their irritating headlight beams get directed right back into their eyes, but that's dangerous, too. Done right, it does get them to back off fairly quickly and then I readjust the rear view to a normal position. That tactic is is used only on occasions where I don't think it's overly dangerous. I won't do it on the windy back roads I now drive, which makes my frustration that much greater. Now I just tilt the rear view all the way up, pointing at the headliner, but that doesn't solve the glare from the side mirrors.

Perhaps it's the technology. Perhaps the headlights themselves have gotten brighter and the lights are on low, but I'll tell you, it is annoying as can be to be driving along a windy two-lane road and not be able to see where I'm going because some FM is coming toward me with lights so bright they blind me, or the idiot who's sitting on my tail who will end up in the back of my car if I do have to brake for Bambi or Flower or Rocky.

So there's the whinge which, as almost always, doesn't change anything.

But this is "fixable". I do have choices. I can spend the next five months dealing with this every night - getting to work at about the same time I've been every day and leaving at about the same time every evening, and fighting the bright lights and being annoyed and tempted to give as good as I get. Or, I can hie myself out of the house earlier. Get to work at seven o'clock in the morning and work until four o'clock and be home around twilight - before the headlights are all the way on.

That would require negotiation on the work front, but it's do-able. Then, next spring, I would go back to the seven-thirty / eight to four-thirty / five o'clock time frame. Or not, depending on how things shake out.

Of course, that means I actually have to hie myself. Negotiate and get buy-in from those who might care. Get up, get moving, not have as much or any time to write or drink coffee or just chill. Hmm. Takes some thought, but it is an option to be considered and debated and, perhaps, acted upon.

Anyway, back to that * I plugged in there earlier - Rocky is in reference to a Beatles song, Rocky Raccoon.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nktOEkrAD8

Now, with that out of my system, I hope you have a bright sunny day with no annoyances!

Best~
Philippa

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