I’m not the most gregarious sort.
In fact, most folks who know me or work with me likely would put me on the antisocial end of the scale, bordering, perhaps, on misanthropic.
You know how after a guy snaps and goes on a murderous rampage, afterward his neighbors and co-workers invariably say he was a nice enough guy, but “kind of a loner” who “kept to himself?” That’s me. The keep-to-himself part, not so much the murderous rampage part.
Once I had to attend a touchy-feely seminar for supervisory types, and there I had to take a personality test that sorted people by colors. I was overwhelmingly pigeonholed as a Green personality, which, if I recall, meant that I tend to avoid social settings, dislike opening up and keep my own council.
So why — if I’m so averse to sharing, not to mention pigeonholing — do I bring that up in a blog about bike commuting?
To get to this: On my bike, I’m a bit of a waver.
Believe it or not, this can be a hot topic whenever and wherever we two-wheeled types gather, whether virtually or in the meat world.
Internet forums frequently overflow with questions about whether cyclists could/should/do wave to one another on the road. I wouldn’t be surprised if the topic came up during big group rides, either, though I wouldn’t know. I — surprise — tend to ride alone.
Invariably, the topic comes up after one cyclist waves at another and the wavee doesn’t reciprocate, prompting the waver to get in a bit of a virtual huff over the other’s snub. Then responses pour in from wavers and nonwavers alike.
Wavers insist we’re all part of some great, not-so-secret club, and as members of the same two-wheeled tribe should acknowledge our brothers and sisters.
The other camp counters that we don’t go around waving to other people just because they happen to be driving or walking or wearing brown shoes.
Wavers: But it’s us vs. cars. Bikers unite!
Non-wavers: Maybe I’m in the middle of a grueling interval session, or struggling up a hill and I’m too tired to wave.
Wavers: C’mon, can’t you just be a decent fellow and at least acknowledge my presence?
Non-wavers: Maybe I just don’t like you. Ever think of that?
And so it goes.
For some reason, I fall more or less in the waver camp, despite myself.
Or maybe it’s more the camp of nodders, or simple acknowledgers.
I don’t go around flailing at every cyclist I see, but I do find myself -especially when it’s cold or windy or rainy out, when conditions are such that only the most hard-core cyclists are still putting foot to pedal — at least giving a quick chin-jut to my bicycling brethren.
Why, I don’t know.
It’s not like I’m looking to make new friends, thank you very much.
But any given day, I’m bound to see, what, hundreds of drivers and only a handful of cyclists? So we are in the vast minority.
Beyond that, I don’t feel any special kinship to anybody else simply because he or she tends to self-propel through life.
So, yeah, unconsciously, more often than not, I’ll acknowledge my fellow cyclists.
And if the wave isn’t returned, that’s cool, too. Antisocial I can live with.