Friday, November 5, 2010

THE BAD COP, THE CRACKHEAD, AND MY HEAD

“If you see him coming towards you at a biker rally, run the other way,” the warning felt familiar, this wasn’t the first biker I had pissed off in the course of penning “claudtalks” but I thought I was done with that chapter in my life.

I had taken a riding course and had written what I thought was a harmless little piece about the weekend called, “Jiggy”. A story about a classmate who I first thought was under the influence of crack cocaine, turned out his skeletal physique and shaky hands were the result of leukemia and its treatment. I had warm feelings towards this guy, he inspired me with his survival against all odds, and his drive to learn to ride and take himself on a ride to explore the rest of his years on the road. One of the side characters was one of my instructors – a surly, Captain Ahab looking character, who was referred to in the piece as “the bad cop”. Hardly an assault on his reputation or effectiveness, the piece was not about him, although his demeanor was worthy of a much more illustrative piece reserved especially for him, I put the experience behind me, took the lessons learned on the road, and wrote a heartwarming piece about one of the classmates who stuck with me long after the weekend was through.

I come to find out that my blogpost is forwarded to the head of the riding school, and that it was interpreted as a signed affidavit of this instructor’s poor bedside manner. It was hard to believe that she’d never experienced his gruff demeanor first hand, his reputation preceded him, I had heard of him through another rider who had told me, “if you get this guy, don’t cry or quit,” he assured me to “stay with it” if I did roll into class to find this notable character – that he was, in fact, a superb instructor; much better than some of the young pretty boys they had teaching at the competitor’s school.

Turns out the head of the school confronts Instructor Ahab, throws anonymity out the window by sending him the actual blogpost with the “bad cop” comments, he now knows exactly who is behind the “complaint” and has full access to records including my home address. This, from the head of the school who’s implied motto is “safety above all else”. Once off the bikes all bets are off, it now seemed.

Now I have a blogpost I am still proud of, an easily angered biker seeing red because of it, seems “Jiggy” has been informed that I called him a “crackhead” on the internet, and I find myself wondering was it all worth it.

I would have to say, “yes!” – until I see Instructor Ahab coming towards me at a biker rally with his lip curled back and his eyes popping out at me from under his bushy brows – at which point I’m left no other choice than to yell out to the heavens, “Please, God – give me the strength to throw a knee right where it counts, run like hell, then write a damned good blogpost when (and if) I make it home.”

2 comments:

  1. I understand completely. As you know I write a lot of social satire. Tongue in cheek comments on my observations of the social scene. Someone has chosen to believe that I was writing about THEM and has gotten all pissy about it. First, it's not about anyone in particular, second, if it bothers them so much perhaps they'd better take a look at it, and third, it takes a hell of a self centered person to thing that I'm writing specifically about them. It reminds me of the old Carly Simon song, "You're so vain you probably think this song is about you". I suppose it's an occupational hazard.

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  2. ...this disappeared from your blog and reappeared on mine! ;)

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