The Rugged Road to Realityville

Every so often, in seeming paradox to the old Irish blessing “May the road rise up to greet you…”, the road does indeed rise up to smite me a good one up side’a ma haid (unfortunately for me, on the one good side that is still relatively untouched by wifie’s regular ‘mid-course corrections’).

The latest example whereof I speak occurred last week, while I was out doing my daily 2.2 mile running course at noon, but let me paint some backdrop context for you first. Since I work for the California State Treasurer’s Office, I usually use my lunch break to work in this important daily segment of my fitness regimen.There are two possible routes that lend themselves for this purpose: one is a 2 times circumambulation of the California State Capitol (since the sidewalk bordering its grounds are roughly 1.1 miles) or an equally nice 2.2 run in a westerly direction from the Capitol, down Capitol Mall towards the Sacramento River (where I make a small loop on the west side after going back over the river and returning the same way).

Both have their advantages, appeals and drawbacks, although the Capitol Mall course is perhaps the better of the two, as I shall explain. The Capitol grounds circumnavigation, taking place as it does when hoards of State workers flood the street during lunch, can be a bit exasperating, since the normally wide sidewalk area becomes quite congested with a wide range of clueless sightseers, out-of-towner tourists, regimented tours from Japan, civil service minions briefly sprung from their cubicles, whacked-out homeless people, schizos of every gender and color, and God knows what all else, suddenly all crammed into the confined area of that walkway.

Running its length thereby becomes more of an anxious steeple-chase than a relaxing fitness run, as every few seconds one needs to dip, dodge, hop, feint and dart sideways in order to avoid collisions with these obliviously thoughtless mobile obstacles. Adding to the disadvantages of this route are stoned-out bicycle riders, bicycle cops, skateboarder dudes, evangelicals, political protestors, local media anchors and pot-bellied, mounted sheriffs on horseback (who seem to take evil delight in harassing runners who don’t comply with stop signs, despite a complete absence of traffic).

This contest to avoid collisions has in the past several years been increasingly complicated by the completely vacuous dim-bulbs whose faces are characteristically buried in their Smartphones, completely unaware of everything around them as they wander about with apparently aimless intent. As if walking on a congested sidewalk wasn’t challenging enough, having to navigate among these pitiable souls who are so thoroughly detached from their surroundings adds a whole new level of complexity to any attempt to run this route at a reasonable speed.

The aesthetic attractions of that course are accordingly few, being limited mostly to the opportunity to gaze surreptitiously at all the sweet young things out getting their daily ‘health walk’, striding along with a bounce that jiggles their firm upper anterior assets most pleasingly, and wondering how all those shapely young female legislative aides can possibly walk a straight line, encumbered as they are by tight skirts and impossibly tall three-inch spike heels.

The alternate course down the mall to the river and back poses fewer frustrations,for the most part, since it is less heavily trafficked and a bit more scenic.

There are still occasional individuals and small groups (of office colleagues, doubtless) to work around, but on the whole it’s relatively smooth compared to a jaunt around the Capitol during the same noon hour time frame. There are also regular street stop lights to deal with on the mall route, which means that if your timing isn’t just right, you have to halt and wait for substantial traffic to pass before dashing illegally through an intersection (a runner’s watch with an intervals timing feature is a blessing at such moments). However, other than that, this option is by far the better and it certainly offers more scenic variety, since the segment that passes over the river (Tower Bridge), around the so-called ‘Ziggurat’ (a visually distinctive State building that has the appearance of a stepped Egyptian pyramid) and back over the river onto the mall, is a welcome departure from crowded sidewalks filled with pin-striped ‘suits’ and Aloha-shirted tourists.

That said, every now and then what I call a ‘situation’ still occurs.

Throughout my life I have been a firm believer in the appropriate application of our cerebral gifts as we interact with whatever comes our way. That is, I feel strongly that most ordinary, garden-variety conflicts with our often highly irritating fellow creatures can be nominally avoided through simple adherence to what I regard as certain natural laws of courteous human interaction.  In our modern, increasingly dense and crowded urban areas, these ‘natural laws’ have for the most part typically become codified in the form of civic codes (i.e. for motor vehicle operation, behavior in public, etc.) that help considerably to restrain us from actively attempting to rip out the throats of those who transgress normative interactive limits. A good example of this ‘codified etiquette’ would be the convention of driving on the right side of the road; if we did not, the consequences could understandably be quite severe, of course.

That single driving convention, universally and unexceptionally regarded as both gospel and law by all American citizens can rather logically, I feel, be extended to general public behavior on sidewalks as well, since it’s almost become instinctual that on any sidewalk (New York City/Manhattan excepted) that people walking towards each other in opposite directions unconsciously move to the right as they pass. This behavior has become so ingrained in almost all of us that it almost takes a deliberate spirit of irrational, reactive malice to do the opposite (move to the left, into their path) when approaching another person on foot.

On my daily runs down the length of the mall, there are usually very few people to encounter. Every once in a while there will be some FDH (fat, dumb & happy)family group of tourists sauntering up the walk from the ‘Old Sacramento’ (a section of mid-1800s old city that is today a tourist attraction) area towards me, on their way to look at the Capitol and usually with a number of small kids that they make no effort to control or corral. On these occasions I’ve come close to running down someone’s chubby little cherub because they haven’t yet been told by their FDH mommy that they have to share sidewalks with others (D’oh!). In almost every case, I take whatever evasive actions are required, naturally, given the fact that I’m not yet an absolute crank about normative etiquette (not just yet, anyway), but sometimes I pass close enough to try to convey an unspoken message that they’d better wake up and pay attention if they don’t want to get knocked on their precious little FDH pre-adolescent asses by a runner who has built up some considerable mass/momentum (and who is entitled, after all, to a small share of their sidewalk).

Now I grant that at such times as these, part of me carries out a recurrent internal dialogue (‘good angel/bad angel’?) that on the one hand argues that people SHOULD act in a socially appropriate manner, given the fact they have been blessed (or is it really cursed?) with a brain for making rational decisions (even if merely based upon the most basic threat analysis: e.g. ‘Collisions with a blunt obstacle can be hurtful; should I move out of the way, or not?’). The other part of me, the part that harbors deep scorn for those who have a brain but don’t use it argues that since they will not (at least predictably, at any rate), I must make accommodations for this inconsistency and also NOT insist that my views on life are correct and theirs are not.

Of course,the emotional and all-too-human part of me invariably becomes pridefully reactive on occasion, thinking (or feeling) ‘Why should I always be the one to make the right choice?’, thereby muddying up the waters of my nicely contrived logical paradigm by more than a little.

It’s a problem I’ve had to cope with all my life: expecting people to think and interact rationally. Unfortunately my self-esteem is not always as strong as it should be, nor am I always able to put all that Zen training I’ve gone through into practice and merely accept the irrationality of life for what it is…sheer meaningless emptiness…and make whatever accommodations a situation requires, whether my feelings register a ‘disrespected’ response or not in any given situation. A psychologist would probably call that ‘making the mature decision’.

I find that this situation also plays out each day on my daily bicycle commute to and from the office (a 5 mile ride each way), since human beings will be human beings, whether on foot, in a car, or in the operation of any other vehicular device. Of course, in a moving vehicle the chances of coming to grief are increased exponentially, since the fixed physical laws of mass/gravity, momentum and acceleration are not together merely inalterable reality but unmindful, unyielding constants that could care less about stale human shilly-shallying on morality, ethics, rationality and/or other philosophical considerations. When I’m on a bicycle, or driving a car, I am therefore a bit less inflexible about the above considerations, accordingly.

But returning to my underlying point here, despite my best intentions, and contrary to what logic and philosophical studies should have taught me over the last 60+ years, there are still those admitted moments when the sheer weakness of my character trots itself out from the little rooms it normally occupies within me and prompts me to do what is by any reasonable standard, the wrong thing. Blame it perhaps on the imp of Irish perversity, but no worthwhile Irish saint of note was ever totally without his dark side.

While I can tolerate errant children of FDH parents who block the sidewalk at a critical moment when there’s no verge on which to get pass, and while I admittedly may indulge those occasional moments of grim determination to simply speed up and start swinging my arms alarmingly when facing some ignorant (but entirely innocent) oaf who insists on maintaining obliviousness of the fleshly freight train heading towards him or her (in a situation where there is no one on the entire sidewalk except me and another oncoming individual), I rarely (and only occasionally) totally lose it.

One such moment occurred last week, while I was running across the so-called ‘Tower Bridge’ over the Sacramento River, that still gives me perplexing pause for second thoughts. Looking ahead while at about mid-span, I spotted a solidly built 30s’ish fellow wearing slacks, a shirt and tie, who was approaching me on the right (my right) side of the narrow pathway of the bridge. Normally, in a situation like this, the mere sight of me coming on at a rush is enough to register on the other person, who then instinctively moves to the opposite side (his right). If that proactive signal isn’t enough, increasing my speed and swinging my arms usually adds a bit of emphasis to the potential for an impact sufficient to shake the serene nonreactivity anyone might have, who might be thinking that it’s all nothing more than an amusing game of ‘pedestrian chicken’. In this one instance, however, the other fellow didn’t budge, didn’t respond at all, but kept right on coming at me.

That was enough to nudge the ‘object lesson’ mechanism part of me sufficiently awake enough to act as if I had absolutely no intention of budging either and the above referenced game of chicken rather quickly began to take shape. Since I was wearing sunglasses, as I always do, there was no chance for him to make eye contact either (so as to guess my intent) and I barreled towards him at full speed.

The only thing that prevented a rather severe impact was 1) the fact that he stopped in his tracks just before we hit and 2) I grabbed him on both arms to abruptly cushion any forceful impact that otherwise was certain. At that point he looked at me and said “What’s  the matter? Not looking where you’re going?” (or words to that effect). We then predictably had a few further verbal exchanges, one of mine being “Why don’t you walk on the right side of the walkway, like every other normal person in the world?”, delivered in an unfriendly tone. I didn’t add the ‘asshole’ suffix that I was tempted to, but the verbal exchange quickly escalated (also predictably, once two testosterone-fueled animals get into an unavoidable, face-saving confrontation). Fortunately, rather than take a swing, which part of me briefly if improbably considered, I reminded myself that I was out on a run, after all, and simply told him to go f*** himself before resuming my sprint. I don’t recall whether or not he replied after that (I didn’t hear anything further, however).

It was only after this occurred that I distinctly recalled another prior run-in with this same ‘ain’t gonna budge’ character, a few months earlier; clearly he was some sort of state civil service employee like me, and probably also out on noontime release. That time we had the same sort of situation rapidly developing, as I saw him doggedly staying his course while I came at him, he again being on the ‘wrong’ side of the walkway. To my credit on that earlier encounter, I had swerved at the last second and we had avoided the outcome that this latest crossing of paths had prompted, but I had long since wondered about what to me appeared to be his deliberate and aggressively reactive act (after all, the ‘instinctive response’ would have been to turn away; only a deliberate and willful decision would have deigned to precipitate such a clash). Since he gave no indication of appearing to be stupid, mentally unbalanced, and/or simply distracted, a ‘threat-intent’ attitude was the only reasonable conclusion for me to draw at that time, in terms of his possible motivations, but I had finally just shrugged it off and forgotten it. Unfortunately, I hadn’t recognised him this time to avoid the 2^nd encounter described above.

I say ‘unfortunately’ not owing to any overt fear or physical timorousness, but more to a sort of outsized superego reflectivity that I typically experience at such moments. I seems there’s always a part of me that steps up to the plate in any kind of conflict I’m involved in to remind me that my expectations (of reasoned, predictably rational human behavior) are not realistic, nor are they objectively humane in an overall transcendent way, either. That same little voice of reason makes me ashamed for crudely telling him what to do with himself, since I am basically a gentle person who wishes no ill will to others in most cases (unless they richly deserve it; for example, a convicted child molester, rapist, or other egregiously antisocial individual responsible for proven, monstrous cruelty to others would definitely qualify).

As may well be imagined, going through life like this can be rather burdensome and spiritually depressing, since the preponderant majority of ‘normal males’ in this country have been socialized to give free and unconstrained vent to their instinctively aggressive natures in a clash between two men, and nary a thought to any higher issues that may obtain usually arises. Being saddled, therefore, with an overactive superego (probably a ‘gift’ from parental and other formative influences) is actually a very big pain in the nether extremity, since it invariably mandates making allowances and excuses for behavior that most would deem unacceptable.

For reasons not at all clear to me, I’ve never been able to figure out exactly why so many people refuse to understand the necessity of maintaining a basically humane and rational (perhaps altruistic, even) outlook on life, rather than the purely reactive one of a dumb brute (or one based solely on emotions), but that simply makes life a little harder to bear, a little meaner to experience and a lot more spiritually discouraging.

I’ve given much thought to this over the years as someone who believes neither in gods nor in religiously based explanations of what life is all about (or perhaps, better said, “should be all about”). And after a good 60+ years, I’m still no further long towards understanding it than I was while my frontal lobe was still developing.

Consequently, while part of me wishes I’d simply slugged the jerk, the other part of me feels sorry for HIS failed humanity, since the road to reality is ever paved with harsh lessons that even the most astute among us often fail to grasp. Of course in the end none of it matters anyway, since according to my personal beliefs, all continuity of conscious human awareness flickers out at that final moment of physical extinction like the flame of a guttering candle. But that doesn’t make it any easier to travel ‘Reality Route 1’ any less effortlessly,does it?

Fortunately, a wise old Irish forebear I respected highly once communicated to me that since this is all part of God’s mysterious (nay, unknowable) plan, I shouldn’t waste any time celebrating communion regularly but instead simply short circuit the process with a good bottle of Bushmills at the ready. I admit that remedy does help take the edge off the often sharp blade of experience, so bless you, Padraigh Moynihan O’Kearny Ciardha, bless you!

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Let me finish up this sorry paean of morbid reflectivity with a summary of a few of my most favorite quotes, just to prove that all this has not made me into a cynical, embittered old misanthrope:

‘     "The chief challenge of life is not to be in the majority, but to keep from joining the ranks of the insane.”–Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus , philosopher/king

‘     "Man is the best computer we can put aboard a spacecraft…and the only one that can be produced by unskilled labor.’  -Dr.Professor Wernher von Braun, rocket scientist

‘     "Dios me libre de un hombre de uno libro! (‘God deliver me from a man of one book!)’ –Don Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, classical author, poet & playwright

‘     "Can’t we all just get along…?’ -Rodney King, human being, black man

‘     "Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it’.  -Jorge Agustín Nicolás Ruiz de Santayana y Borrás (AKA: George Santayana), philosopher

  "  "Patriotism has become a spiritual syphilis that devours the brains and grins out through empty eyesockets with moronic hate!"  -Carl Nielsen, Danish classical composer

      "We have met the enemy and he is us..." -Walt Kelly, cartoonist (creator of 'POGO')