Ideal v. Hope

The other day there was yet another train related death in the paper. I, nor anyone else was shocked, the press did not stop. While at work I found myself in a conversation with a few others regarding America's astonishing level of train related accidents. I'm still not sure how this happens so frequently, I mean, it's not like we're surprised by a trains location or route, it seems a difficult task for a train to sneak up on someone, seems the tracks might give it away. However, in spite of the tracks, the sheer size of the train itself and even the frequent flashy, dingy guard gates that drop when the road does happen to meet the tracks; trains are America's one place that one can look at the amount of carnage, the statistics of accidents, gruesome accidents, and think, "is this a third world country I'm living in?"

One of the attorneys I work for mentioned that this surprisingly high level of accident may have some correlation to America's growing number of personal injury attorneys (he's not one by the way). He even remained dumbfounded, though, and little convinced by his own hypothesis as he relayed to me a story of a time he found himself watching a commuter train push an SUV down the tracks, past the station before his eyes. He gave me a shoulder shrug and walked away.

As I think about it more, however, I feel that the simple knowledge that in this country one can retain and afford an attorney in regards to personal injuries sustained, though this alone could not be enough to compel one to disregard the obvious consequences of say, running in front of a train, it can create a more general climate of irresponsibility. That with the additional aid of large insurance companies, make one feel as though no matter the action one takes part in, nothing "bad" may ever happen, "I'm sure of it" one thinks as the name of their in[sure]ance company scrolls through their head while bounding over the rails attempting to make the 9:40 AM.

It's not that I believe people feel nothing bad may ever happen to them, it's more a thought that perhaps as we witness more and more "accidents" take place with no apparent consequences, subconsciously, we cannot help but begin to relate and find it planted in the backs of our minds that though "bad" things can happen, they're never not followed by very large settlements. Mercy to the one whose psyche on that fateful day decides that work is for dummies and getting wheeled around trying to figure out how to spend the settlement winnings is a viable alternative. In this country, someone is always there to make it all better.

As much as being coddled by insurance policies and personal injury defense seems to add to our general lack of responsibility, the praise and adoration of personal rights is not excused from our train produced, carnage ridden suburbs either. The other day I was biking home from class and I found myself sitting at a stop light. The car to the left of me decided that he wanted to make a right turn and in that decision process decided that I was in his way. I got a quick honk and as I looked back to assess the issue I witnessed what looked to be a puppet show put on from behind the dash of a car the windshield acting as the third wall I suppose. The driver vigorously waved his hands around all while bobbing his head.

I became irritated at the situation as the gentleman in the car continued to honk at me and wave his hands. My first observation was the complete lack of the use of his blinker, always a dead give away if one is considering a turn. Secondly, and most important, however, at the time of incident, I was legitimately poised in my proper lane of travel, stationary because of the stop light. I found his irritation uncalled for given the obvious fact, and physical law mind you, that though he may have decided he wanted to turn at that very moment, I had become in his way. Surprise, surprise in a city the size of Chicago, someone in another's way.

As I began to consider just sitting there while he threw his little tantrum, the light turned green and I peddled off and he made his turn. It bothered me as I rode on, however, that I would consider knowingly remaining in another's way. Yes he was being an ass about the situation, but what did I have to lose by conveniently slipping back a few feet? I surely had nothing to gain, especially not a friend. Why would I think that a good idea, I kept turning over in my head. The memory of it progressed to the point where I was now a third party watching the intercourse take place and I realized that had I in fact been that third observer I would have found both of us assholes. The guy in the car for obvious reasons stated above, but then me as well, the jack-off on the bike, "Mr. I have control issues and need attention, my mother didn't hug me enough, my daddy never played ball with me, go cry about it" the rant would have began, me as that neutral observer.

It makes me realize that though the individual in the car had no patience, I have no pity. I criticize seemingly stupid accidents before I attempt to understand them. I have decided that train accidents happen because people are stupid and careless and insurance companies exist because people are driven by fear and at the end of the day are sad and weak.

Sometimes I feel as though my life is an ongoing metaphor of the death of ideals constantly being exhibited in every opinion I have. I guess that would boil down to pessimism. It's not that I have too little faith and hope in people, but too much and I'm constantly being let down. I'm angry that stupid accidents happen because in an ideal world these things would not happen. In an ideal world people take care of one another and live honestly and desire to grow in character and desire the best for others before themselves. But what fool lives with ideals like that? What sort of child would one have to be to believe these things and get mad over the fact that they do not exist?

When I was growing up I was taught these ideals by my teachers and for a time I believed them. When I would whine about homework or gripe about rules my teachers would tell me I couldn't be that way in the real world, that people didn't put up with complaining and I had to carry my own weight and do what I needed to do. While I believed these ideals I found myself living in this stasis of a world, waiting to be sent to the real world. When I was mature enough, then I could partake in reality. But as I grew up, I realized that all along what I was living was the real world, just smaller at the time. People do not change as they get older, complaining does not stop, and we'll always be fighting over the biggest cookies.

I'm not angry with my teachers for essentially lying to me about the "real" world. I know what they were doing. They just had hope and were trying to make things just a little better. Perhaps we would believe the ideals so thoroughly the force of it would make them come true as we lived them out in our lives. That's the ideal I developed from all that and it's an essential part of the root of my anger. Perhaps I'm just not very perceptive and I ended up developing some super unmeetable ideal which the world may never live up to yet I can't help myself but continually hold the world against it. Instead, and if I were perceptive enough, I suppose I would have developed hope, which would have yielded a much more pleasant person.