No Such Thing As "Too Low to Go On"

This is a bad time in my life. A lot of people said 2009 would probably be the worst year of our lives, but in reality, I think it had a lot of highs. Another happy, healthy baby was added to my always-extending pantheon of nieces and nephews. I graduated high school, which (not to sound too proud) was a pretty big accomplishment for me.

But 2010 is shaping up to be pretty bad. Last year, people were planning on saying, "At least I survived 2009!" I plan to say, "At least I survived 2010." The cruel irony that Peter Hyams and Arthur C. Clarke's 2010 happens to be one of my all-time favorite movies is not lost on me.

Particularly this month, things just aren't really right in my world. And I'm not talking about myself because apart from being unnaturally lonely (and it feels great to type that out) and unhealthily stressed out about a college that's messing with me like a shark toddler plays with toy chum, I'm pretty much OK. It would be nice if my problems could go away (in fact, I'll be eternally grateful to anyone who happens to have a magic button or wand laying around).

But I'm more concerned about the people who are important to me. About their baby drama. About their economic woes. About their clinical depression (and there's a lot of that in the air, which is not cool). About the fact that many of the people I know and hold dear are struggling so hard and there's really nothing I can do to help them.

About the recent (but no longer new) glut of bullying-related gay suicides. I don't know anyone directly affected by it, but it should be on everybody's minds. Fortunately, Dan Savage and other incredible people have put together the It Gets Better Project with the goal of helping prevent other similar tragedies. It's horrible enough when external violence claims a life for such a stupid reason. It doesn't need to get any more horrible.

Aaaaaand to top it all off, it's election season. Which means that the airwaves (both on radio and television), phone lines, and mailboxes are inundated with the additional negativity of hack politicians trying to drag their opponents down with them. Like we needed the extra stress! (My theory: if mudslinging were banned, nobody would ever run for public office.)

The point in all this is that life works itself out in the end. It's how I can still have hope for myself, and how I still have hope for all of you. I'm an optimist, no matter how negative I skew at times. I have a friend who likes to point out how depressing some of the movies I like are. She sees Tommy as a story about a traumatized child whose life ends in despair after losing everything and everyone he holds dear. I see it as a movie about a boy who is actually cured of being deaf, dumb and blind and comes out of the horrible tragedies life throws his way battered, yes, but a wiser person. I know someone else who insists Camelot is horribly depressing because two best friends go to war when one friend betrays the other with the other's wife. I see it as a story about a man whose optimism and love help him to create a fantastic dream-- that fails, yes, but in the end, his optimism and love help him realize that there is a future as long as we remember the past. I suppose one could also see Carousel as a story about a layabout wifebeater who somehow ends up in heaven and whose widow never moves on with her life-- I see it as the quintessential tale of redemption and family love, and there is nothing downbeat about that ending on the seashore after the graduation.

Yes, these examples are all from movies. You should know how I operate by now. But you know-- no low is too low. Life is bowl-parabolic in nature. It may dip, but it always turns back upwards. Always.

Anarchy in the Streets

Just today, I was walking. You know, being a pedestrian and that? Well, let me reaffirm one of my long-held observations about traffic: you can't be an aggressive walker. Many people choose to be aggressive drivers, but that's because they have big, powerful automobiles at their command. But if you want to be an aggressive walker, your days are pretty much numbered because some drivers will do anything to save a few seconds.

Well, I was crossing the street not far from where I live. It's a three-way stoplight: west, east, and south, with clearly marked, lit crosswalks. Since traffic rarely comes from the south, it's hard to cross from north to south-- it requires a lot of waiting, usually. But that's okay. What's not okay to me as a walker (and a human being with common sense) are all the people who don't realize that, since it's not forbidden by a sign, right turners at this light coming from the south are allowed to take their turn even though they have a red light provided there is no traffic coming. I can't stand waiting for the light and seeing this person (who, apparently, doesn't know driving laws as well as some of us who don't have licenses) wait, pulled completely forward past the near crosswalk and virtually into the potentially approaching traffic, for a green light to take their turn even though they've had countless opportunities to turn. You see, usually what happens in these scenarios is, I get my walk light and they get a green at the same time, and they seem to expect to be able to turn first-- even though the pedestrian has the right of way. I've been honked at, sworn at, and who knows what else at this crosswalk because I know that their green will last a good twenty seconds or so after my light is completely gone, so I go first because (a) it's my right and (b) I'm not at all slow when I cross the street, so they don't have to wait much longer anyway.

Well, today it happened again. Same crosswalk. Honk and all. Only today, the story is slightly different because I encountered this driver a second time, pulling out of a driveway that had no traffic light. He was in a truck, ready to turn right across two lanes of traffic (on a fairly busy street-- a right turn and a turnaround probably would have been quicker). As could be expected, he was pulled completely out into the bike lane, interfering with pedestrians' ability to cross because we would either have to walk around his truck or step out onto the street to get past. I didn't realize it was the same truck at first, but when the passenger took the time and effort to flip me off on the rebound, I knew fate had struck once more. Obviously, my adherence to what I thought was a well-known and perfectly reasonable law caused these people so much inconvenience and irritation that they carried a grudge, and possibly still do. (I should also explain that I'm wearing a bright, fairly distinctive shirt right now.)

Once again, I feel like I'm expected to be at the mercy of impatient, possibly reckless motorists just because I don't have a way to transport myself right now except for my own two legs and the local transit systems. Somehow the hierarchy of traffic has toppled, with vehicles at the top of the pyramid, crushing cyclists, who in turn are spinning their wheels over pedestrians. But the fact is fairly simple. The only vehicle I own right now is myself. I'm a human being. A slightly overweight human being, to be sure, but if I walked into a car (which would be fairly amusing to see) it really wouldn't cause any damage. Cars "walking" into human beings, however, can cause anything from a broken bone to an ended life. So, yes, unfortunately, that does require paying attention. (Walkers have to pay attention, too.) And being patient. And realizing that traffic laws are there for a reason.

No, I'm not the kind of person who is offended by every middle finger thrown his way. But in this case, it's just another depressing reminder that taking a walk is taking your life into your hands.