A Very Scary Place

'My head's a very scary place; don't want to walk it alone...'
Christopher Cross, "I Know You Well' (1998)

In the past I've focused on advice and counsel which can be passed to a larger, more general public, especially since a sports editor asked whether he could borrow one or two of my posts.

Weekly exposure in a large-city newspaper leads to a number of outcomes: You end up with new 'friends.' You also gain new 'detractors.' Both are necessary to the aspiring writer. There's nothing like seeing your weak points exposed by a person who wants to "make points" in the public spectrum - they provide an unpaid (but not unappreciated) editorial function in the feedback loop. You go back and think a little more critically about the next topic; you read the first draft a little more critically. You make certain there's more "muscle" than fat. The editor has less material to polish, change or tweak.

This post is (most likely) not going to be sent up the line. Here is where I temporarily revert to that often self-abusive "make-you-go-blind-if-you-keep-writing-like-this" type of writing which to many appears to be the sustenance of bloggers. I feel a need to talk about a "very scary place" I briefly visited this past weekend. Some details will be trimmed to save friends and loved ones from needless exposure.

I like beer. However, I would not say I have a drinking problem. More often than not I am the person who sees the proverbial "line drawn in the sand," over which I dare not step for fear of ruining my personal, financial, or professional well-being. I will have anywhere from zero-to-three beers a day during the work week. There is the rare - perhaps two or three times a year - occasion when I will dance at the line and mock the Fates, after which I go back to my comfortable bed and sleep for a few hours. When I awaken, I chuckle at my good fortune, grab a cup of coffee and march smartly.

This weekend I have to admit I stepped over the line. It wasn't a big step, but it was a step. In the 25-plus years since I drunkenly stumbled out of a bar in my hometown and inflicted $600 worth of damage on my brand-new pick-up truck, I think I can say I've "stepped over the line" perhaps three times. For me, this involves or has involved drinking (probably in this most recent case) the equivalent of a 12-pack of American beer and climbing into or onto a motorized vehicle.
I've seen other people (try to) do this. In a far worse state of inebriation. With facial trauma from the outmanned tag-team match against gravity and disequilibrium that state of drunkenness so stealthily arranged. I've seen a few really good, and graphic examples of why not to drink to that state. Of course, when we are having a great time we don't quite think about those consequences.

I definitely thought about the potential consequences - financial, judicial, professional, medical, and so forth - once we returned (safely) home. The next morning's run turned into a long walk and chat with my wife. She now understands why I prefer to not drink as much as the next party animal. And naturally, my body decided to let me feel the lowest level of the potential consequences through the remainder of the day. A headache would have been acceptable. But no...my stomach taught me a lesson.

Small, 12-ounce opaque drinking cups are your friend. Large, transparent 21-ounce beer mugs are your friend, too...but for a brief period of time. Having the courage to say "I think I've had enough," or to ask whether someone (sober AND of legal driving age) can make certain you get home safely might not make the hangover, headache or gastrointestinal distress any less intense, but it might be much less expensive for you. And the ones who run with - or love - you.

Beware of Human: Winter Training Tips For Drivers and Driven (Runners)

I enjoy the autumn - comfortable temperatures, dry air, pumpkin & spice everything - but I also have to be on my best behavior as a motor vehicle operator & as a runner on the roads. My wife often points out pedestrians for me; the ones crossing in the center of the roadway, half a block from a lighted crosswalk, by calling out "human being, human being..." Nine-to-ten times out of ten I notice them before she does, & cannot help but marvel at the abject foolishness of a human pedestrian, jaywalking in darkness, doing their finest "stealth bomber" imitation. What is it about wearing black or subdued gray that makes otherwise seemingly sensible pedestrians want to do something stupid, like not use a signal-lit crosswalk at night?

These thoughts crossed my mind again yesterday evening after a truncated tempo run on Pensacola Beach. If not for the overcast conditions we probably had fifteen minutes of daylight; it was definitely past twilight once I began to walk a 600-meter cool-down back to my car. A running friend, Walt, chatted about the quickly-darkening conditions as I changed into a long-sleeved t-shirt. We both considered ourselves lucky; traffic on the beach was light because of the weather conditions & darkness. We knew it was high time to adapt some of our favorite mid-week running. "I guess it doesn't matter whether you're in the right as a runner," said Walt. "Even if you are, the car always wins on account of sheer weight."

My wife and I have been in a twilight automobile collision, on the way to a track workout, which injured both of us; her more so. The accident taught me a hard lesson about defensive driving. Why is night driving so dangerous? Insurance companies & motor vehicle bureau statistics say one obvious answer is darkness. We have a harder time judging distance, color, & objects in our periphery, add to this our need to adapt to growing darkness during twilight hours (maybe even the stress of work & a rush to get home)...danger, danger, Will Robinson. Honestly, I can tell you my vision isn't what I'd like it to be...disorders like macular degeneration, which come as a result of aging, can wreak havoc on night vision. If you're over forty it's probably affected you, too.

As a result of that one accident, I've adapted many of my driving routes from work to home, from home to workouts, & even the routes on which I train. Ample street lighting is almost a mandatory item for me if I'm in an area where motor vehicle traffic can be accessed. I also try to avoid routes where darkened side streets, blind corners, parking lots which are situated lower than the running or training surface can cross my path. My mid-week run is on a barrier island with relatively few cross streets, so I don't have to adapt much there.

Sometimes, though, your workout may need to be moved to a time where there is ample daylight. If you can't move the workout, and it's dark, be certain to run either on a path or on the edge of the roadway which faces approaching traffic.

Autumn runners (or cyclists, for that matter) should take advantage of clothing items which have large reflective patches, stripes, spots - or are completely reflective on their own accord. Some clothing manufacturers have materials which are neon bright & cannot be missed...unless the driver of the motor vehicle wants to miss it. Also think about flashing clip-on lights, headlamps, & small flashlights. If you don't want to wear reflectorized or lighted items, light-colored clothes are a nearly-acceptable alternative...but I like something which sends light back in the general direction of the driver. Some people may disagree with me on this, but I used to wear yellow or amber-tinted glasses during darker conditions - it helped not only to keep down some of the glare of high beams (we'll talk more about that) but also to keep wind & grit out of the eyes. It's difficult to see in the dark when your eyes are closed half of the time.

While you're thinking about how to be seen as a runner, you might want to consider enhancing your ability to see as a driver on the road. Clean headlights, tail lights, signal lights & windows at least once a week, and replace them as soon as you learn one is out (Is that a motorcycle or a large truck? You can only answer that one wrong once.). Make certain your windshield wipers & any rear wipers are in good condition. I would even recommend using window defogging/rain repellant products, such as Rain-X. Turn your headlights on at dusk to help other drivers see you. Don't drive with the high-beams on unless you are in a very dark area & you're driving at high speed. And please, don't flash those high-beams at an approaching runner.

I've often complained, ranted, railed & beat the drum about the dangers of running with headphones, especially at races. I do wear headphones - when running solo, in broad daylight, out of the general path of automobile drivers. When I do, I keep my volume down & my head on a swivel for approaching bicycles, pedestrians & hazards. A large dog once joined me on a run while I was wearing headphones. I had no clue until I looked off to my right and saw him. Big dog. Very big dog. Thank heavens he was "friendly," taught me a lesson. So, if you have to have music while running, keep the volume as low as possible. If I can hear your music 12 feet away from your head, the volume is probably too loud. But that's another rant altogether.

For drivers, it's painfully obvious that to drink & drive borders on insanity. However, drinking & driving is a leading cause of accidents – including night driving accidents. The next big culprit to add to the list of hindrances & distractions which can cause an accident would be cell phones. Military bases have forbidden the use of cell phones without hands-free operation, so I learned early on to check messages or make calls while sitting in the parking lot. I can almost justify a brief "I'm at this location & on my way" phone call while driving, but I've seen animated ten-minute-plus conversations going on in the heart of town, while driving thirty miles per hour. Scared me to death. I shouldn't even have to complain about how dangerous text messaging, e-mailing & web surfing is on some of the newer smart phones. It's not smart phones which cause accidents, just dumb drivers.

So, as the leaves turn brown & the sky becomes gray, begin to think about your fellow man, whether they are a pedestrian, a runner, or a motor vehicle operator. It's all karmic - doing right by your fellow road user can lead to safe & sane road use for everyone.

Head On A Swivel

While I'm not one of those persons who considers myself a great driver, I would say I'm at, or slightly above, the above average ability. Yes, my wife would probably disagree with my assertion; perhaps my father, too. But I've done more than my share of driving in both large and small cities...and yes, had accidents in both large & small cities over the past three decades I've been entrusted with the controls of automobiles or motorcycles.

However, I've only been at fault in three...with inexperience, foolishness & inebriation being the main root causes...all in accidents which occured in the first ten years of driving. You get past those halcyon days & it's been the stupidity of others to blame.
Two whack-ups in the past two years, however, hasn't helped my sense of paranoia when climbing behind the wheel. Especially in this town.

Why is it I can go on a road trip to a large city, & drive with a fair amount of confidence through their streets that I won't be the target of a T-Bone-To-Be-Determined-At-A-Later-Time, yet when I come back to my fair city I have to drive with my head on a swivel & engage in hyper-defensive driving? I swear, I'm ready to see if DRMO has any warehoused rocket launchers I can mount on the roof of my car.

When driving down the central thoroughfare, near the center of town, I encounter the operator of a large suburban (f)utility vehicle who decides, not only to punch a right-hand turn into the intersection, but to punch it into the left-hand lane...where I am steadily approaching at 30-to-35 miles per hour...

Or, a divided secondary artery which divides two subdivisions becomes a regular dart half way across in between the medians...if we're lucky we'll continue the dart all the way across location. On two separate days in succession I've had this happen at the same exact intersection...I would almost swear with the same driver.

Funniest one had to be the other morning, on a commuter artery which bisects the city from northeast to west. If you approach an intersection with a red light & four vehicles waiting to make a left-hand turn, common sense & logic dictates you would enter the turn lane & wait, correct? Nope, not this knucklehead...this guy turned right into the left hand lane of travel, shot past the other four vehicles & turned left against the opposite oncoming traffic. All I could do when I rolled up to the intersection was shrug my shoulders & look at the car at the front of the left hand turn lane with a look of what the heck can you do about THAT!?

The comforting thought was they were laughing in amazement...or frustration...like I was.

I guess the best thing I can do, barring a change in my employment situation to telework, is to keep my head on a swivel. 'Cause heaven knows there are some folks out there who certainly aren't.

Oh, could someone please tell the lawn care guys who decided to park their big-@$$ truck AND trailer in the access lane of the local sub shop...stop it, for crying out loud?! Okay, not that I was in a rush to get back to work, but neither I nor my insurance provider is ready to pay for more body work on my car. Thanks!

Las Vegas Has Elvis Because Key West Picked First

There' nothing like going on a week's vacation...arrive in town to find two hundred portly, middle-aged-to-elderly men who all have worked very hard over the years to look like Ernest Hemingway in his later years. Each years' winner becomes local royalty. For them, it's a good thing; all they have to do is come back each year to this overpriced spit of land out in the Atlantic and judge future contests. No more political campaign-like madness for them, thank you very much.

And it does feel much like a political campaign, when you look at it from the surface. I saw screen-printed t-shirts, fans, placards; heard chants of individual supporters - usually family and close friends - more money raised and thrown about (in the general direction of the Key West High School scholarship fund) over the course of three days. Sloppy Joe's, the KW bar where 'Papa' Hemingway was reported to have written some of his greatest works, appears to be the center of the universe; Capt. Tony's, just up the block heading west, probably handles the overflow handily.

So, what would 'Papa' do?

I had the chance to talk to the preeminent, the primary, and the persistent. On Saturday morning just before a ritual "running of the bulls" finalist parade, a kindly gentleman, one of the more recent 'Papas,' took the measure of my question. He thought for a few seconds, and replied, 'I'm not certain that "Papa" would understand it.' The family member of a first-timer, fervently (and drunkenly) cheering for his Italian-accented, stumbling moment in the spotlight during the second round of 'Papa' wannabes, told me she did not think Hemingway would understand it, either.

They may be right. A man like Hemingway, who wrote much on the dignity of the individual identity...the aloneness of the man on a mission (or fool's errand), would have been confused by the number of men over the past 27 years who have tried to physically emulate him...many of them on their 20th attempt at last count; the organizers provide pins counting the number of years each participant has show up to pony up his U. S. Grant...and then some. The closest one was a local. The farthest one came from Australia.

And it's the elderly, portly 'Papa' they emulate; a young man was prohibited from competing in years past as the young Hemingway, complete with World War I-era Red Cross ambulance driver uniform.

I guess it means something. We - and by we, I mean our society - look at the decadent, white jump-suited, paunchy Elvis; to the paunchy, hard-drinking, hoary and hirsute Hemingway, as our ideal men. Perhaps this has much to do with the lives of leisure they led prior to their tragic departure from this mortal coil. Problem is, we forget how much labor and effort, the ball-busting, blood, sweat, toil and tears they shed in the development of their craft. A Hemingway short story, such as A Clean, Well-Lighted Place, or Death In The Afternoon takes much longer to write than it takes to read. It's the work, and the life experience that seeps into each word, each page, that takes so much longer. All that labor and expense paid dividend in the end, allowing both their aimless, chemical-induced life.

I have more respect for 'Papa' than for Elvis, though. At least he was still able to walk from Sloppy Joe's to his house, with a potty stop at the kapok tree on the way. Hemingway could be content with buying a drink. Elvis had to buy his friends.