I struggle hard to understand
My obsession with the leading brand
A transient boost to needy pride
Makes this the only one to ride
Reassuringly expensive the price I paid
To project the image I wish conveyed
Pursuing quality is what I claim
Not tacit value in branded name
But lesser brands are just as viable
And many are much more reliable
But Mondeo class would never do
To align with my peers or crew
Dressed in my ersatz sponsored attire
Cueing lifestyle … or perhaps desire
Quality of life is what I sought
And be admired for what I’ve bought
For brand monsters lie within my head
It’s id and ego who must be fed.
Brockweir Quay – the vestiges of what was once a busy port are just about visible in centre foreground. Attribution: Roy Parkhouse [CC-BY-SA-2.0] Click to view larger image.Over the two bridges that look like one
For a border weave is today’s cycle run
On the other side we’re through South Wales’ gate
Onwards past Chepstow’s outskirts, keep riding straight.
Wye Valley: A466 near Tintern Attribution: Alby [CC BY-SA 2.0] Click to view larger image.On the A466 to St Arvans, we head
Now a small climb to the top, but no sweat need be shed
For follows the Wye Valley descent, down which we all zoom
Miles of gravity-powered energy, so our own we don’t consume. Continue reading →
You tell ‘your people’ to slow down He turned to see her wrinkled frown What ‘people’? He somewhat fazed You ‘people’ her face now blazed Her eyes had scanned his attire It was this that had set the fire His uniform was of the hated ‘others’ No individuals, just bands of brothers No logic here could be applied Her ears were deaf when he tried Like one car driver who holds the crown Who can tell ‘her people’ to slow down.
[To listen to this verse select below]
Commentary
This rhyme reflects a not uncommon experience of what it is like to be ‘the other’, i.e. a member of a perceived minority who are perceived as troublesome, or at least inconvenient. It is based on the recent experience of one of the group of cyclists I was with at our refreshment stop Brockweir Cafe and Farm Shop just outside Tintern in the UK. As he was waiting in the queue to pay for his refreshments an elderly lady seeing his cycling attire decided to issue her message about cyclists in her neighbourhood. She actually used the words ‘your people’ and seemed totally immune to the illogic of her protestations. A few weeks later, passing through Tintern, a male car driver again having mechanical trouble communicated through his wound down window about ‘you people’ to our little group of fellow travellers. Something to ponder about being in a minority – particularly a growing one?
I struggle hard to understand
