Some marvelous example of the human race stuck his head out of his pickup and screamed at me as I was walking with Baby yesterday evening.
Don’t know what he said and I don’t particularly care. I didn’t even really care at the time, after I made sure Baby hadn’t been frightened (she didn’t appear to have noticed). Assholes spout assholery—it happens, like a passing bird pooping on your shoulder. The possibility isn’t going to keep me trapped indoors.* You brush it off, you go on.
The objectification does tend to piss me off, though. This guy tried to disrupt my day because something about me** tripped his Safe Target sensors from several yards away, so the odds are he wasn’t screaming about my admittedly eclectic tastes in literature or music, or my political leanings.
He didn’t know anything about me aside from my appearance, nor did he bother to find out. I was a target to him, not a person.
Which makes me want to grab his attention in both fists and introduce myself. Mindfully and thoroughly. Possibly while demonstrating the strength of my grip in emphatic, painful ways.
This probably isn’t what Dr. E had in mind when he suggested walking as a way relieve my stress.
But when we got home, my favorite Charlie Daniels’ song*** was playing on the radio and Baby and I danced to it. I felt so much better that I decided to share my smile:
Mr. Daniels does it best, of course (that voice) but I can’t help admiring Steve Ouimette’s version (also on Guitar Hero 3, apparently):^
The video was shopped from the original by Primus (which I couldn’t embed) but it still fits. Sort of.
And I thought I’d also revisit this one, because it makes me believe that if we all worked together . . .
It’s 16 minutes long, but oh, so worth it.
____
*Although I might become a camera phone owner so I can more easily record license plates and take candid shots of those special Mr. Personality contestants.
**And gosh, I haven’t a clue what that might be.
***You are invited to scream at me about this from your pickup, if you wish: “Fiddle Lover!”
^See? Eclectic.
Tags: fat abuse, fun, self-acceptance
July 8, 2009 at 10:03 am |
My therapist, PhD Coachy, likes to remind me that if you were to follow the people who shout things from cars around all day, you might notice a pattern…, they tend to have a certain way of interacting with the whole world, not just me or you.
July 8, 2009 at 10:25 am |
I agree. Poor things . . .
And I don’t take this sort of thing personally—or not anymore, mostly—but that doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about literally shaking up their way of interacting and\or modifying their definitions of Safe Targets. Even if our respective therapists would remind us that this wouldn’t work . . .
July 8, 2009 at 10:17 am |
I feel validated!
I think I’ll be smiling most of the day from that.
July 8, 2009 at 10:35 am |
Um yeah, sorry about that. I just wanted to tell you what a wonderful blog you have and how cute your baby is, but I was running late and so I couldn’t stop to talk. In hindsight I guess yelling out of the truck wasn’t the best idea since you were unlikely to be able to hear me clearly. Sorry for the confusion.
July 9, 2009 at 7:58 am |
Actually, your buddy was driving—you were the one hanging out the passenger-side window waving what I took to be an open can of beer. If it wasn’t, you might want to lay off the caffeine, there, sport.
July 8, 2009 at 11:20 am |
I was once jogging on my own on the edge of a park near my home, and some guy stuck his head out of his car window and shouted something rude at me. I was so incensed. Sure, I’m fat, but I’M JOGGING! What are you doing, buddy? SITTING IN A CAR!
(For reference, I live in inner London, and the public transport here is decent enough that you don’t really need a car if you’re able-bodied.)
I jog often with my personal trainer, and she’s a teeny size 8 while I’m a size 16 or so. We often get catcalls – presumably because she’s “hot” and I’m not and why would a fittie like her want to be seen jogging with me *eyeroll*. But as before – same applies. We’re getting exercise – what are you doing, Mr Car Person?
Tsh!
July 9, 2009 at 7:54 am |
Yeah, I love this.
We catch crap because of the myth that fat people don’t exercise. But if we exercise where people can see us, we also catch crap . . . sigh.
Let’s all chalk it up to the poo-flingers’ poor early toilet-training and go be damned for doing—what do you say?
July 8, 2009 at 7:37 pm |
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s assholes screaming things from cars (or pick-up trucks.)
I have had so many things yelled at me that trying to make sense of them all as some complete, coherent statement about who I am as a person would make my head spin faster than you can say “The Excorcist.”
It’s about them, not you. But it sucks all the same.
You have my love…and my righteous anger on your behalf
July 9, 2009 at 7:45 am |
Thank you!
July 9, 2009 at 2:52 pm |
Thank you for sharing that vid on ”
Validation” I LOVED it!