Humans belong to tribes. Whether you think you do or not, you are part of communities larger than yourself.
Tribes have customs, language, communication patterns, lifestyles. You learn those things with time, whether you grew up in a certain group or came to join one later in life.
One of the more amusing tribal customs to me is the “finger wave.” For those of you who live in farm communities, grew up there or moved to one, you’ll know what I mean. When you drive down a country road, if you extend you first finger up from the steering wheel to an oncoming driver (often a pickup truck), they will respond in-kind.
The finger might mean: “Hi. What’s up? Be safe. Good to see you. Drive safely.” Or something else. It is an acknowledgement of connection in country life.
It doesn’t only exist there. Many years ago, living in Washington, D.C., a group of us took a camping vacation in the Virginia hills. We drove together in green boat, a car so huge from the 1970s that if felt like it was floating on water. The guy who owned it became the best man in my wedding. We’ll call him P for identity protection.
P was and is a very funny guy. Always able to make you laugh. Observant of life and its nuances. He’d found the finger wave somewhere recently and was obsessed with it.
“Watch this, Dave,” he’d urge me as we meandered down an almost deserted road, some old clunker coming our way.
He’d lift his finger. Invariably, he got a finger response from the oncoming vehicle. This cracked him up. He was easily amused.
My wife and I moved to Nebraska in 1997, where the tribal finger wave became even more apparent. Driving long distances with no settled humans probably leads to loneliness, and just about any driver I encountered in my job criss-crossing the state responded to the finger communication. “Hey, it’s lonely out here. How the heck ya doin’? Seen any other cars the past two hours? Nope.”
Most recently, I’ve found the orange Subaru Crosstrek (OSC) finger wave culture. Purchasing the car last year, I didn’t consider I’d joined a new tribe. You don’t see many OSC’s, so when you do, you kind of perk up. This led to me identifying other OSC’s coming my way.
And, of course, that meant lifting the greeting finger. The first time I did this got a positive response.
While this didn’t surprise me, I had to validate my data. I began watching for OSC’s, prepping myself and trying to make eye contact with drivers while raising the greeting finger.
And yes, oh yes, the response was terrific. Close to 89 percent of OSC’s coming at me from the opposite direction or turning in front of my car at an intersection saw the greeting and responded affirmatively. “Yeah, your car is cool, too. Aren’t we special?”
Though that’s not really the connection, there was and is something to be said for this tribal cultural connection. You like a funky colored car. So do I. We have something in common. Cool.
In our currently disconnected world, it’s nice to have these connections. Reach out. Give someone the wave. Join the tribe.
Tribes have customs, language, communication patterns, lifestyles. You learn those things with time, whether you grew up in a certain group or came to join one later in life.
One of the more amusing tribal customs to me is the “finger wave.” For those of you who live in farm communities, grew up there or moved to one, you’ll know what I mean. When you drive down a country road, if you extend you first finger up from the steering wheel to an oncoming driver (often a pickup truck), they will respond in-kind.
The finger might mean: “Hi. What’s up? Be safe. Good to see you. Drive safely.” Or something else. It is an acknowledgement of connection in country life.
It doesn’t only exist there. Many years ago, living in Washington, D.C., a group of us took a camping vacation in the Virginia hills. We drove together in green boat, a car so huge from the 1970s that if felt like it was floating on water. The guy who owned it became the best man in my wedding. We’ll call him P for identity protection.
P was and is a very funny guy. Always able to make you laugh. Observant of life and its nuances. He’d found the finger wave somewhere recently and was obsessed with it.
“Watch this, Dave,” he’d urge me as we meandered down an almost deserted road, some old clunker coming our way.
He’d lift his finger. Invariably, he got a finger response from the oncoming vehicle. This cracked him up. He was easily amused.
My wife and I moved to Nebraska in 1997, where the tribal finger wave became even more apparent. Driving long distances with no settled humans probably leads to loneliness, and just about any driver I encountered in my job criss-crossing the state responded to the finger communication. “Hey, it’s lonely out here. How the heck ya doin’? Seen any other cars the past two hours? Nope.”
Most recently, I’ve found the orange Subaru Crosstrek (OSC) finger wave culture. Purchasing the car last year, I didn’t consider I’d joined a new tribe. You don’t see many OSC’s, so when you do, you kind of perk up. This led to me identifying other OSC’s coming my way.
And, of course, that meant lifting the greeting finger. The first time I did this got a positive response.
While this didn’t surprise me, I had to validate my data. I began watching for OSC’s, prepping myself and trying to make eye contact with drivers while raising the greeting finger.
And yes, oh yes, the response was terrific. Close to 89 percent of OSC’s coming at me from the opposite direction or turning in front of my car at an intersection saw the greeting and responded affirmatively. “Yeah, your car is cool, too. Aren’t we special?”
Though that’s not really the connection, there was and is something to be said for this tribal cultural connection. You like a funky colored car. So do I. We have something in common. Cool.
In our currently disconnected world, it’s nice to have these connections. Reach out. Give someone the wave. Join the tribe.
