Life is not a linear business. A brutal reminder shoved
this back into my face a few days back when I came within three feet of dying
violently, and not the graceful way I have long preferred.
Walking home from the pub around the corner is a quiet
five minute affair. After a couple pints of craft brewed honey pilsner I am in
a mellow and quiet place. I sit in the pub for a couple of hours a few times a
week, reading or taking notes for blog posts or story ideas. Every so often I
meet a friend or my brother or run into someone I know. Being at the pub is
some of my “people time”, the time I spend away from my internal world of
writing. It helps remind me that I am not totally alone. The wonderful and
friendly staff knows what I’ll be drinking from the moment I walk in, and they
have it on my table before I fully sit down. It’s that kind of place, part of
the neighbourhood where I choose to live, made up of regulars. Folks who walk
there, and home again.
A few days back I’m walking home, crossing the street
fifty feet from my front door, and I come within three feet of being a messy
new hood ornament on a Nissan Pathfinder. It was about ten years old, light
green, clean and looked after. The white guy behind the wheel had medium
length brown hair, and one of those half beards that surround the upper lip and
chin but not the cheeks. He was one the guys that look stupid wearing it, the
kind of guy who wore a mullet 5 years too long. He had just come tearing
down the street, speeding through the 30kmh Playground Zone in the adjacent
block, and roared into the roundabout outside my apartment nearly taking the
front end off a car that already had the right of way. He was driving so
fast I wasn’t aware of him until the other car hit the horn.
Then he sees me, already in his path and slams on the
brakes, nearly riding up the curb, and my legs. Please try and understand that
it takes a lot to make me angry. Few people have seen it, and those that have
remember it well and wish they didn't. I choose to live my life quietly, serendipitously, with some
thought, and some reason, and when possible foresight. And I have learned to
accept that life is a non-linear event, made up of random occurrences and
thoughts.
I was quite angry. Many years ago I was trained to use
my voice in such a way as to get people’s attention when needed. Control of
pitch, volume, and tone are essential when trying to cut through panic and
disorder. So I used my best “Command” voice, the one that is loud, succinct,
and authoritative. The one the entire neighbourhood suddenly heard and then
went silent. Of course I also used my best “Charlton Heston as angry Moses” arm
gesture to point directly at our hero’s head while uttering only three words:
“YOU – SLOW DOWN!”
Ever since the incompetent engineers that work for the
city where I live took out the Stop signs and installed the roundabout, the
amount of traffic on my once quiet side street has tripled. They moved the Stop
signs a block down to slow the traffic that was using that street as a
raceway. Most drivers treat my roundabout as nothing more than a politely challenging
chicane. They patently ignore the adjacent block long playground zone, clearly
marked at 30kmh, and feel it is their God given right to run over the safety
rights of whatever children and seniors that happen to be in their way. After
all, how dare anyone get in “their” way?
Well, I guess I did. It was a nice warm late afternoon
when I started crossing the road, a residential side street that doesn’t have
lines painted on it. I passed two women chatting on the corner, their adorable small
dogs looking on quietly. I was two thirds of the way across when the horn
sounded from the driver who had been cut off by our wayward Nissan. I looked up
and saw our hero just in time for he and I to both stop abruptly. Three feet away,
the distance from my spine to the end of my fingertips, with one very small side
step I could have placed my hand on his hood.
The speeding in the playground zone has always been a
pet peeve. A lot of years ago I spent many hours of volunteer time working in
the field with my local police on traffic safety issues. I even have a nice
certificate from the major insurance company here in B.C. thanking me for my
commitment to road safety. Speeding in playground zones is not a policing
priority, something I understand from experience. However, how can a city
redistribute traffic flow so substantially in a neighbourhood to direct it
through a speed controlled Playground Zone and not follow up?
So back to the whole non-linear thing. It’s like this,
many more years ago than I care to admit, I was in a car accident. The kind
that screws up your shoulders and neck, and results in your beloved car never
gracing your driveway ever again. The kind that results from the other party
making an illegal turn into a one way street, and then going through a red
light they can’t see because the light is facing the other way. The kind that
happens at 3 a.m. on a Halloween night when you’re on the way home from working
a night shift, and going through a green light you can see, on a mostly
deserted downtown street.
So far we have only random elements converging on a
common point, non-linear lives and activities, unconnected. And then they all collide,
t-boned is the common phrase, at a blind corner due to the buildings being
right up against the sidewalk. My car hits a pickup truck right behind the
passenger door. My car comes to a stop in half a car length; I bang my head on
the door post as the car spins 180 degrees, and then come to a stop facing back
the way I came, into oncoming headlights. I catch a glimpse of the pickup spinning
off down the other street.
Downtown streets in the early morning, more random
elements collide. A security guard sees what happens and calls it in, so does a
limo load of people behind me. Witnesses to a random collision. Non-linear
elements suddenly in the same space. In the end the pickup driver is cited for
several infractions. The witnesses all tell the same story, that I had the green
light and wasn’t speeding and the pickup coming from the wrong direction. I’m
covered.
In the days that followed as I endured insurance
visits, doctor visits, sorted out how I couldn’t work, and began physiotherapy
I began to realize how non-linear the sequence of events was, and how if even
one of those elements had been 1 second later or earlier how different would
have been the outcome? Besides the obvious I realized “what if” the limo had
been going slightly faster? I would have been hit twice. Then because after
such events the human brain sometimes wants existential and spiritual
validation, you run the all the permutations over and over, move the variables,
the decimal points, the positions of people and cars, and you come to realize
that the only variables that mattered were the ones that actually collided with
your politely non-linear life. All the other stuff is madness to contemplate,
but you have to do it at least once in your life, to make sure the anchor of
your life is the awareness that you are alive. You might see yourself as a
seemingly random element in a non-linear world, but our innocent and random
choices have results and sometimes unintended consequences.
I once did an interview with an executive of a packaged
tour travel company. She was interested in the Key West road trip and as I told
her of the places and people, she confessed she would be afraid of making a
wrong turn and getting lost. So I confessed to her that I had never been “lost”,
but sometimes I wound up taking a wrong turn and seeing some places I hadn’t
expected. I also told her that was part of the adventure, that the unexpected
showed me more than I wanted or thought. Like my experiences at the Negro
League’s Baseball Museum or the discovery of the massive War Memorial in Kansas
City, or the visit to Harry Truman’s Presidential Library, or how I saw and
felt about Mount Rushmore and Little Big Horn.
The non-linear events that mark us, shape us, and form
us. The random thoughts that happen late at night, or early morning, or
driving, or while sitting next to a random stranger and beginning a
conversation that blossoms into a strong friendship. The thoughts we all have that
change lives and lead to “ah-hah!” moments. How much random and non-linear is your life?
How much random and non-linear do you allow for, or permit, or even deny?
All of these events and more went through my mind as I
quietly walked away from the Nissan. Once more I was walking away from being an
arm’s length away from dying violently, again at the hands of a self-involved
driver. The only sound that I heard after I finished crossing was the Nissan
speeding off down my street, speeding to the Stop sign at the other end of the
block. I didn’t hear the women resume their conversation, or the other car
drive off, but I knew that both would resume their personal journeys quickly.
The guy that leaned on the horn would say “that was close”, the two women would
say “What the…?” and the dogs would just stay adorable. All of them random,
non-linear, unconnected elements, all safe, until the next time unrelated
elements are needed to collide.
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