Okay, let me just say, I'm not a comedian. Sure, every once in a while, I come up with a zinger, but I don't have the comedic stamina to do it for any length of time in front of an audience. That said, I want to make it clear that this is not intended to be one of those lists that seems to become spam fodder in your inbox. These are some things that I've realized really bug me, and I thought I'd share. I'm sure you'll sympathize with a few.
Now, I don't want to make anyone feel bad, not that I think enough people read this blog to make a difference, and not to diminish the people who do read this blog, which I thank you few for, by the way, nor do I wish to imply that I feel as negatively as the word "hate" would indicate, but I hate people who have to preface everything they say with some long, nested, parenthetical disclaimer...which I guess means I hate myself, but let's move on.
I'm not really a phone guy. I think guys in general have been accused of not being "phone people". Because I know I'm not a phone guy, I'm kind of self conscious on the phone. This causes me to speak softly. Well, the point is, I really hate when people call me "ma'am" on the phone. It happens all the time, mostly at work. I don't think I have a particularly effeminate or high-pitched voice. I can only imagine that the people who call me ma'am are picturing me as a 65 year old woman with a lifelong smoking habit. Who knows?
Going along with the idea of being self conscious, I hate missing the opportunity to be friendly to people I don't know. Granted, people I don't know make me a little shy, but it's something I have been working on for many years. One of the things that I think doesn't help is my natural facial expression. When my face is relaxed, I tend to look mad or broody. If may face happens to be relaxed, I'm probably not talking, and if I'm not talking, I'm thinking. Sometimes I get lost in thought, and that's when the missed opportunity to be nice occurs.
Let me give you an example. The other day, I was leaving work for lunch. There was this family in the atrium, and they had this little girl with them. She must've been five, maybe six, and she was wearing a cast. Despite the cast, she was just as happy as could be. As her family left, she stood at the foot of the stairs smiling and waving at me. She was the cutest darn thing...but I only realized that after I had snapped out of my spaciness. I saw her waving bye at me out of the corner of my eye, and by the time I brought my attention to her, her family was calling her out the door, probably to get her away from the guy coming down the stairs looking like a serial killer.
Happens all the time. I'm spacing out, and some friendly stranger nods and says, "Hey." By the time I snap back to reality, the other person is walking off wondering what the hell my problem is. That's me. I got what you call charisma.
Along the same line, I think a lot. So, I have that spacey, broody look pretty frequently. Sometimes, it's more persistent than others. Sometimes, when I'm particularly thoughtful, I'm moody too. Actually, it's probably the other way around; I get thoughtful when I'm moody. Why do I get moody? Who knows? Men have a hormonal cycle too, though it's not nearly as severe as women's. Sometimes, it's just my time of the month, and I get irritable, dammit.
This is an equation for potential disaster. Well, maybe not disaster, but it can definitely be an issue. I know when I'm moody, and I don't like it. Usually there's nothing going on in my life to be moody about. So, I hate it when people start asking me, "What's wrong?" Actually, I don't hate that. What I hate is when people insist that something is wrong after I've told them that I'm fine. They continue to ask if I'm alright, even though I've reassured them that I am.
Don't get me wrong, it really feels good to know that people are concerned with my well being, but when I say I'm fine, please believe me. Even of I just don't want to talk about it, I'll probably want to later. More often than not, though, it's just me being irritable. Trust me, it really isn't worth the worry.
Okay...all this self analysis is making me moody, so let's move on.
I hate garbage water. I know, I know, the last couple sounded so serious. Now I follow up with garbage water? But you don't understand...I REALLY hate garbage water. You know, you're taking out the garbage and then -- Splat! You pull back your hand, which now smells like it's been marinating in rancid banana peel-flavored espresso, or coke-soaked baby diapers, and find that you have nothing to wipe it on because you're outside. Thank goodness for antibacterial hand gel, but you still have to give them a good washing to get rid of the scent of coffee grounds and orange soda.
Another thing that really gets on my nerves is people who drive SUV's as if they were Porsche test drivers. Listen, I'm glad you have enough cash flow to fill up every two miles, but for me, gas is way too expensive to floor it and slam on the breaks at every traffic light. I think that if you're fuel efficiency is rated in gallons to the mile, it doesn't hurt to be a little conservative on the road. Not to mention that if I'm in front of you when you're breaks go out, you're not even going to notice you hit me. Meanwhile, I'm going to be hitching my way to the hospital clutching a steering wheel and a hubcap, the only remains of my car.
I could go on for pages, but I'm afraid you might start to think me a cynic. I assure you that I love more things than I hate. I love my wife. I love my friends and family. I love the quiet hours I spend hacking away at my keyboard. I love sudden, powerful bursts of inspiration. I love tira misu. I love a good Italian Pinot Grigio. I love the universe and all of its fascinating quirks, even the one's that bring about the things I hate. And I love...life.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Meet Marty
Hi all. I've got a new link for everyone to check out. Marty, a friend of mine, decided to start his own blog. It's kind of small for now, but Marty's a sharp guy. Give it time. He's one of these people who thinks a whole lot about stuff, just like me. You'll be able to tell from his first post, he's deep.
lifeismaya.blogspot.com
lifeismaya.blogspot.com
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Neurotic? Me?
The following story is fictional, but it is also semiautobiographical. If I were to visit a therapist, this is how I imagine it would go down.
This'll probably explain a few things...
*****
FADE IN:
INT. THERAPIST'S OFFICE LATE AFTERNOON
Muted grayish-beige paint covers the upper portion of the wall while the lower portion is clad in an elaborate dark cherry wainscoting. Afternoon light pours through the slats of expensive Venetian blinds, illuminating a large mahogany desk that sits at the back of the room and providing comfortable lighting to the rest of the office. Two looming bookcases flank the window. A few more bookcases are spaced along the walls, including one behind an expensive, leather-upholstered chair. A matching cherry settee sprawls comfortably across from the chair.
In the chair sits DR. EMIL SKODA, a late middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper moustache and goatee and wearing glasses. On the settee lays JEFF, a thin, young man with dark brown hair, blue eyes and a slightly rounded nose.
SKODA
JEFF
(after some thought)
SKODA
JEFF
(shrugs)
SKODA
JEFF
(laughs and shakes head)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(nods)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(shrugs)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(shakes head)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(beat)
SKODA
JEFF
(snickers)
SKODA
(smiles)
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(shrugs)
SKODA
JEFF
(nods)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA jots several notes in a notebook that sits on his lap.
SKODA
(nodding)
JEFF
SKODA
(nods)
JEFF sits up, a concerned look on his face.
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
(stands)
JEFF stands and walks over to SKODA and shakes his hand.
JEFF
(nodding)
SKODA smiles and JEFF exits the office headed for the front desk.THE END
Note: As I said in the beginning, the above is a work of fiction. For those of you who recognized the name, Dr. Emil Skoda is a recurring character played by J.K. Simmons on the TV legal drama "Law & Order". He doesn't look anything like how I described him up top, but that's one of the great things about fiction: I don't have to ensure accuracy.
Speaking of accuracy, I think it's important to note that I am not a licensed therapist, nor do I have a Ph.D. in psychology or an M.D. in psychiatric medicine. The method of diagnosis used by Skoda above and the resultant recommendations are not, to my knowledge, specifically endorsed by any healthcare professional.
Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), however, can be a serious problem and is estimated to affect as many as 5,000,000 Americans. If you feel you may be suffering from GAD, please consult your primary healthcare provider. He or she will be able to refer you to a professional who can help.
This'll probably explain a few things...
FADE IN:
INT. THERAPIST'S OFFICE LATE AFTERNOON
Muted grayish-beige paint covers the upper portion of the wall while the lower portion is clad in an elaborate dark cherry wainscoting. Afternoon light pours through the slats of expensive Venetian blinds, illuminating a large mahogany desk that sits at the back of the room and providing comfortable lighting to the rest of the office. Two looming bookcases flank the window. A few more bookcases are spaced along the walls, including one behind an expensive, leather-upholstered chair. A matching cherry settee sprawls comfortably across from the chair.
In the chair sits DR. EMIL SKODA, a late middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper moustache and goatee and wearing glasses. On the settee lays JEFF, a thin, young man with dark brown hair, blue eyes and a slightly rounded nose.
How are you feeling today, Jeffrey?
Oh, pretty good.
Pretty good?
Yeah. I mean, I had kind of a bad night earlier in the week, but I'm ok now.
What happened?
Well, I had this meeting in Orlando on Wednesday. I'd never been in the part of town where it was being held. So, I mapquested the directions and set out on the road.
Go on.
Well, the remains of rush hour traffic were already threatening to make me late, but once I got on the highway, things were going pretty well...until I was about halfway to my destination. I get off on this one exit, right, and there's blockades everywhere, flashing lights, and not a sign to be seen. It's a major road construction area.
Did you have to turn around?
No. That's just the thing, see? The road was still open going east and west, but because of the way everything was blocked off and the lack of signs, it was very confusing. I started going west, which was really the only direction that made any sense. But I thought I was looking for some other turn along the way. Mapquest's directions weren't totally clear on that. Well, after about five minutes, I became convinced that I was going the wrong way.
What convinced you?
I wish I could tell you. I always do this. Whenever I'm not sure of where I'm going, I start to second guess myself. It always ends up with me turning around prematurely and getting myself even more lost.
Is that what you did here?
I turned around, drove back to where I had gotten on this road, and I drove for another five minutes in the opposite direction. Doc, I did this four times...four!
What were you feeling as this was happening?
Well, I was convinced that the turn I had been looking for was blocked off. I was frustrated. Here I was on some road I didn't know. I wasn't in the city yet, so the nearest place I could stop for directions was miles away. I had no cell phone. After about second time going back and forth on this road, I got really mad.
Mad?
Yeah. Man, I was yelling, cursing...I was mad!
Can you tell me exactly what was the focus of your anger?
I don't know. Myself, I guess.
Yourself?
Maybe not at first. At first I think I was mad at the situation. But I've done this to myself a hundred times before. I knew the only reason I was in that situation was because I had put myself there.
So, what did you do?
Well, after I had yelled myself hoarse and had exhausted my four-letter-word vocabulary, I decided to get a grip. I turned around the way I had originally been going on this road and promised myself to drive until I either figured out where I was going, or I found a place to ask for directions.
Which was it?
I figured out where I was going. I found my turn a little further up the road than I had driven before. It's exactly the same outcome as any other time I've done this.
And how did that make you feel?
Honestly, a little ashamed of myself. After going through the same thing over and over again, you'd think I'd have learned. I just get so anxious, y'know? Because I have done this so many times, I get nervous any time I have to drive somewhere I've never been before. I'm so afraid I'm going to do it again...I usually do.
Are there other times when you get angry with yourself? Times when you're not in the car?
Sure. I see it at work and when I'm working on my own projects at home. If things aren't going perfectly, and I can't figure out how to make them go perfectly, I get mad.
Why do you think that is?
I hold myself to a very high standard whenever I take up a task. It's like...I don't know. It's like I want people to see how well I did something. I want them to be impressed with my skill, or at the very least, I don't want them to be unimpressed with my lack of skill.
Have you always been this way?
No. I wasn't when I was a kid. In fact, you might say I was the opposite. See, I didn't have much encouragement when I was little. Some of the teachers told me I had potential, and I think my dad believed in me. But most of my teachers wanted to hold me back a grade and give me detentions, and my dad was constantly at work or playing in a night club with his band. My stepmom and her two daughters were definitely no source of encouragement. It was very clear that they never expected me to succeed.
So, when do you think all this changed?
High school. See, I moved out of my dad's house and in with my real mom. It was like another world to me. I had so much more freedom living with my mom, and she made it clear that she believed in me. She saw how little faith I had in myself, so she did everything in her power to change that. But it's a very hard thing to change in a person. I came from an environment where nobody expected me to succeed, so I didn't. Now, I was in a situation where somebody was encouraging me to succeed, and I wanted to. I wanted to succeed so that I wouldn't let down my mom and to spite those who didn't believe in me before.
And did you?
Well, only a little. See, opportunities would come up. Things I never would have done before. I saw them as a way to prove myself. Every once in a while, I would work up the courage to take on a challenge. Sometimes I would succeed, but many times I would be on the verge of success, but then I would get scared.
Scared of what?
Scared that I was going to fail. I was afraid that I was going to fall on my face and that everyone was going to see it and think of me as a loser. I would rather they just didn't think of me at all. So, I remained pretty inconspicuous in high school, except for a few things. Things, I might add, that I worked extremely hard on, just so that there was absolutely no chance I would fail.
That was in high school. How about now?
Well, it depends on the situation. I know what my strengths are, so if I have people encouraging me to do something that involves my strengths, I'll do it. But again, I will employ those strengths to their absolute limit so that I'm not perceived as a failure. If I'm not sure about the situation, though...if it's something I've never done before or something I haven't had a lot of practice with, I'm reluctant to do it at all. And if I do decide to take on the challenge, I usually end up doubting myself every step of the way. That self doubt usually ends up sabotaging the whole thing.
Like when you're driving.
Yeah, actually.
And how do you feel now?
Jeez, doc, I come to you for answers, and all you do is ask me questions.
Well, I have to ask you these things. This job would be a lot easier if I could read your mind. Since I can't, your honest answers to my questions are the next best thing.
Okay, okay. Right now...well, I feel good talking to someone about this. Y'know, a lot of times, when I'm getting angry at myself, no one's around. I'm alone in the car or in my office at work. Usually, if someone's around, I wouldn't make my anger so obvious. With someone looking over my shoulder, I think it comes off more as hesitance. But it feels good to talk about it now...although, I do feel a little ashamed.
Why is that?
Obviously, this isn't normal. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. I recognize, even while it's happening, that I'm being unreasonable. I just...don't know how to stop myself.
How often does it happen?
I have a minor occurrence of it almost every day, but really bad ones happen maybe once or twice a week.
Do you get tense when it happens?
Especially in my shoulders and back.
Any trouble sleeping?
Not really. I mean, I usually don't go to bed early because there just aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done that I want to get done. But once I go to bed, I have no trouble getting to sleep.
SKODA jots several notes in a notebook that sits on his lap.
Okay, Jeffrey. Given everything we've talked about today, I believe you may have some component of generalized anxiety disorder. Now, I'm going to refer you to a psychiatrist for a consultation.
A psychiatrist?
He'll be able to confirm my diagnosis and, if he feels it's necessary, prescribe an anti-anxiety medication like Celexa or Lexapro.
JEFF sits up, a concerned look on his face.
Do you really think medication is necessary?
Well, I don't think you'll need to use medication on a regular basis, but it certainly might help for the really bad occurrences. Aside from that, we'll be going over some relaxation techniques that I think will help quite a bit. Eventually, I think you'll be at a point where medication is entirely unnecessary. I'm confident that we'll be able to reduce the severity of your anxiety significantly, if not eliminate it entirely.
Good. That's what I want to hear.
All right. Let's stop here for today. If you go up front, I'll have my assistant schedule you with the psychiatrist. She'll also give you some handouts on relaxation techniques. Take them home and look them over. We'll go over them at our appointment next week. Call if you have any questions, okay?
JEFF stands and walks over to SKODA and shakes his hand.
Thank you, Doctor Skoda. I'm beginning to feel a little better already.
SKODA smiles and JEFF exits the office headed for the front desk.
FADE OUT:
Note: As I said in the beginning, the above is a work of fiction. For those of you who recognized the name, Dr. Emil Skoda is a recurring character played by J.K. Simmons on the TV legal drama "Law & Order". He doesn't look anything like how I described him up top, but that's one of the great things about fiction: I don't have to ensure accuracy.
Speaking of accuracy, I think it's important to note that I am not a licensed therapist, nor do I have a Ph.D. in psychology or an M.D. in psychiatric medicine. The method of diagnosis used by Skoda above and the resultant recommendations are not, to my knowledge, specifically endorsed by any healthcare professional.
Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), however, can be a serious problem and is estimated to affect as many as 5,000,000 Americans. If you feel you may be suffering from GAD, please consult your primary healthcare provider. He or she will be able to refer you to a professional who can help.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Evolution Ticks Me Off!
Warning! Soapbox ahead!
Okay, maybe not evolution itself, but the whole evolution argument...that bugs me. One of my pet peeves is when people start running their mouths about things they are not qualified to run their mouths about! Evolution is the current most mouth-runned thing and my least favorite. I don't go into people's churches to try and teach evolution. They shouldn't come into public classrooms and try to teach intelligent design.
Of course, I do know the difference between a public school and a church. The issue here is that the religious right wants to march into our biology classes and stamp a disclaimer before evolution. The theory of evolution is a concept that was arrived at by following the same rigid procedure that gave us the theory of relativity: the scientific method. Nobody demands that we put disclaimers before Einstein's theory, at least not anyone who speaks as loudly as those against Darwin's.
In the public's vernacular, "theory" can be almost equally substituted with "guess". But in science, a "guess" must go through a rigorous process before it eventually can evolve into a theory. As a scientist, you must be able to provide substantial evidence and a repeatable experiment with a consistent, observable conclusion. This is something that not a lot of these people understand. They think Darwin was just standing around, scratching his ass, and said (with "Goofy" voice), "Gawrsh, I got me a theory!" Do some research, people! Learn about it before you go mouthing off in a very public setting and making a fool of yourself.
'Cause let's face it folks, evolution is a fact. What I mean is, evolution is a real process that has occurred in the past, occurs in the present and will continue to occur in the future. It is the mechanism of evolution that still claims the title "theory". Scientist still aren't entirely sure why evolution happens or exactly how it happens. Darwin presented natural selection as a possibility, and it is the most commonly accepted theory for the mechanism of evolution. Does it perfectly explain evolution? No. There are still holes in our understanding of it, but virtually no scientist questions the validity of evolution as a real, ongoing event.
Does this mean we came from apes? Well, if you follow the logic, there seems to be a strong indication that this is the case. We know from fossil evidence that, at one time, the diversity of life on this planet was very limited. We know that all living things undergo evolution. We know that, at some point, the diversity of life on this planet increased, indeed is still increasing, however slowly. There was a time when there were no humans, but there were simian creatures, like apes. We have a fossil record of a gradual variation of simian life with ever increasing similarity to modern humans. We know that all simians, humans included, have extremely similar DNA signatures. In fact, we share between 98.5 and 95 percent genetic information with the chimpanzee. So, did we evolve from the chimpanzee? Not likely, but it is likely that we share an ancestor with the chimpanzee.
And all this is just an extreme glossing of the evidence available to suggest this relationship. Does all this mean that it is an incontrovertible fact that humans evolved from a more apelike ancestor? Of course not. Anyone who has ever taken a course in philosophy knows that nothing, absolutely nothing, can be proven 100%, not even your existence. But if we don't exist, why the hell am I even typing this?
See, there's this scale of reasonability. It's reasonable to believe that I exist because you're reading this now, or are you? Seriously though, it's reasonable to believe that humans evolved from an apelike ancestor because there is significant evidence to support it. And just because we believe in evolution, doesn't mean we can't also believe that God or some higher intelligence created us. Clearly, if we were created, then our creator endowed us with the ability to evolve because we are evolving right now. The only thing that is contradicted by a belief in this instance of evolution is the bible and related religious works. But as I've said previously in this blog, there's a difference between faith and religion. Religion makes it next to impossible for you to believe anything it doesn't tell you directly. Faith imposes no such requirements.
But all of this is completely aside from the point. If people are going to oppose the teaching of evolution in public schools, they need to oppose science as a whole. If, however, they are willing to accept the scientific method and all the other facts and theories that we currently owe to it, then they must relent in their singling out of evolution. Biology is a science class, and evolution is a branch of the biological sciences. If parents want to be selective about the science they are taught in school, send them to a sympathetic private school, or home school them. You have that choice. Don't impose your ideology into the public school system, where there are plenty of students who are interested in learning pure, indiscriminate science.
Check out this site for more information on evolution: fact and theory.
Check out Defcon America if you're of like mind and would like to show your support for the continued separation of church and state.
For those who prefer a different flavor of reality, check out the official site of the Christian Coalition.
Okay, maybe not evolution itself, but the whole evolution argument...that bugs me. One of my pet peeves is when people start running their mouths about things they are not qualified to run their mouths about! Evolution is the current most mouth-runned thing and my least favorite. I don't go into people's churches to try and teach evolution. They shouldn't come into public classrooms and try to teach intelligent design.
Of course, I do know the difference between a public school and a church. The issue here is that the religious right wants to march into our biology classes and stamp a disclaimer before evolution. The theory of evolution is a concept that was arrived at by following the same rigid procedure that gave us the theory of relativity: the scientific method. Nobody demands that we put disclaimers before Einstein's theory, at least not anyone who speaks as loudly as those against Darwin's.
In the public's vernacular, "theory" can be almost equally substituted with "guess". But in science, a "guess" must go through a rigorous process before it eventually can evolve into a theory. As a scientist, you must be able to provide substantial evidence and a repeatable experiment with a consistent, observable conclusion. This is something that not a lot of these people understand. They think Darwin was just standing around, scratching his ass, and said (with "Goofy" voice), "Gawrsh, I got me a theory!" Do some research, people! Learn about it before you go mouthing off in a very public setting and making a fool of yourself.
'Cause let's face it folks, evolution is a fact. What I mean is, evolution is a real process that has occurred in the past, occurs in the present and will continue to occur in the future. It is the mechanism of evolution that still claims the title "theory". Scientist still aren't entirely sure why evolution happens or exactly how it happens. Darwin presented natural selection as a possibility, and it is the most commonly accepted theory for the mechanism of evolution. Does it perfectly explain evolution? No. There are still holes in our understanding of it, but virtually no scientist questions the validity of evolution as a real, ongoing event.
Does this mean we came from apes? Well, if you follow the logic, there seems to be a strong indication that this is the case. We know from fossil evidence that, at one time, the diversity of life on this planet was very limited. We know that all living things undergo evolution. We know that, at some point, the diversity of life on this planet increased, indeed is still increasing, however slowly. There was a time when there were no humans, but there were simian creatures, like apes. We have a fossil record of a gradual variation of simian life with ever increasing similarity to modern humans. We know that all simians, humans included, have extremely similar DNA signatures. In fact, we share between 98.5 and 95 percent genetic information with the chimpanzee. So, did we evolve from the chimpanzee? Not likely, but it is likely that we share an ancestor with the chimpanzee.
And all this is just an extreme glossing of the evidence available to suggest this relationship. Does all this mean that it is an incontrovertible fact that humans evolved from a more apelike ancestor? Of course not. Anyone who has ever taken a course in philosophy knows that nothing, absolutely nothing, can be proven 100%, not even your existence. But if we don't exist, why the hell am I even typing this?
See, there's this scale of reasonability. It's reasonable to believe that I exist because you're reading this now, or are you? Seriously though, it's reasonable to believe that humans evolved from an apelike ancestor because there is significant evidence to support it. And just because we believe in evolution, doesn't mean we can't also believe that God or some higher intelligence created us. Clearly, if we were created, then our creator endowed us with the ability to evolve because we are evolving right now. The only thing that is contradicted by a belief in this instance of evolution is the bible and related religious works. But as I've said previously in this blog, there's a difference between faith and religion. Religion makes it next to impossible for you to believe anything it doesn't tell you directly. Faith imposes no such requirements.
But all of this is completely aside from the point. If people are going to oppose the teaching of evolution in public schools, they need to oppose science as a whole. If, however, they are willing to accept the scientific method and all the other facts and theories that we currently owe to it, then they must relent in their singling out of evolution. Biology is a science class, and evolution is a branch of the biological sciences. If parents want to be selective about the science they are taught in school, send them to a sympathetic private school, or home school them. You have that choice. Don't impose your ideology into the public school system, where there are plenty of students who are interested in learning pure, indiscriminate science.
Check out this site for more information on evolution: fact and theory.
Check out Defcon America if you're of like mind and would like to show your support for the continued separation of church and state.
For those who prefer a different flavor of reality, check out the official site of the Christian Coalition.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
It's What I Do...
Welcome, once again, all. Given the purpose of this blog, I thought it appropriate to post an excerpt from my book. Before I do, though, let me give you a brief bit about it. I've chosen this particular section because it has always been my favorite. Why it's my favorite, I couldn't say. It does not involve the main character, nor is it the most action packed sequence, not by a long shot. I guess I just really like the character Su-Ni. She isn't really a crucial character in this book, but you do get to see her quite often. I'm setting her up for something bigger. She's going to be very prominent in the next book, if not the next few books. This is her first encounter on her very first little adventure, and it is here where she learns how harsh the road can really be.
* * * * *
Sitting up, Su-Ni looked to her unwitting companions' campfire. It was burning low, though she knew someone must have still been awake, keeping watch and tending the small fire. The young diplomat took comfort in the tiny yellow light in the distance, and she sat watching it for several minutes until her eyelids once again became heavy.
Somewhere to her right, a cricket chirruped, and her eyes snapped open. A little in front of her, another cricket answered. She realized that the small insects had likely been playing all night, and it was her stirring that had momentarily silenced them. She continued to sit still as the whole grassy earth around her slowly came alive with a crescendo of the natural music. Normally the repetitive, high pitched noise would have aggravated her and kept her awake, but her weary muscles and heavy eyelids took that away. The cricketsong was a lullaby, and she was succumbing to its magic.
Her eyes snapped open again.
The sudden silence roared in her ears. She flinched and looked around cautiously. Perhaps she had begun to fall back and caught herself, and the sudden movement had startled the crickets. She peered into the darkness all about her but could not see beyond ten feet in the light of this not-quite-full moon.
Su-Ni froze as a light patter, almost imperceptible, issued from her left. It seemed as though the sound darted quickly to somewhere in front of her. The distant campfire blinked out of her sight for just a moment. She knew something was out there now. Something was circling her. Not ready to panic yet, she wondered if it might be someone from the camp investigating the area.
"Hello?" she ventured, but not too loudly. "Who is there?"
Something flashed in the darkness, low to the ground. Four little circles appeared and disappeared quickly just out beyond the dim light. The young diplomat recognized the reflection of the moonlight in the eyes of some animal.
Or animals.
It seemed to her that it had to be more than one, for she had seen two pairs of eyes flashing in the dark. She peered out all around her, squinting slightly at the effort. The pattering came again, followed by another flash of eyes. She began to worry that a pack of hungry wild dogs had come upon her in the night and saw her for what she was.
Easy prey.
Su-Ni cursed herself for bringing no weapons with her on this journey. Not that she was skilled with any weapon, but she certainly would have felt safer now with some kind of dagger in her hand. She glanced over at the faintly glowing campfire in the distance and wondered if they would hear her if she screamed and, more importantly, if they would arrive in time to save her.
She gritted her teeth against that thought. She was not even sure if the creature, or creatures, were dangerous. She would only reveal herself if she perceived a greater risk in doing otherwise. Of course, she wondered again if there would be enough time to save her when she finally perceived that risk.
A low chitter-like sound broke the silence, causing Su-Ni to jump. She grabbed her small pack and stood quickly, holding it defensively against her chest. She turned all about, trying to catch another glimpse of her stalker. She tried to control her breathing and strained to hear over the pounding of her heart in her ears. That sound was surely not made by any dog.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another movement, and she turned to look. Something stepped into the circle of low light offered by the moon.
She could see that it was some manner of quadruped, but she was confused by the jumble of mass around its head. The creature ventured closer, seemingly smelling the air and turning from side to side. As it stepped toward her and into a bit more light, Su-Ni's confusion melted into tentative fascination. She realized that what she had thought was its entire head was actually its head and an extra set of long, jointed forelimbs that grew from its well-muscled chest. She was also shocked to see that the two pairs of eyes she had seen belonged to only a single creature. It turned its head again to focus on her with the other pair of lidless, glittering black eyes.
Though the rest of the creature's brown fur-covered body was, indeed, dog shaped, the four eyes and the two extra limbs, which now started to unfold and probe the ground in front of it with large, black, single-taloned tips, made it seem almost spiderlike. It chittered again, and Su-Ni noted the massive black beak from which it had issued the sound.
She marveled at the enigmatic looking creature. It seemed to be a jumble of the most unlikely animals she could think of. She also thought, though it did nothing to quell her uneasiness, that the creature had a rather comical face. A bony ridge set high on its flat head made it look a bit surprised to see her. She knew better than to be at ease as those two enormous taloned limbs now pawed at the air.
The creature chittered once more in an almost quizzical tone.
An answering chitter came from behind Su-Ni. She turned quickly to see another of these odd beasts approaching her. Now she started to feel panicked. As they came closer, it seemed that their tapered bodies crouched lower, especially in the rear, where their thickly-built back legs twitched eagerly.
Su-Ni did not doubt that she was in trouble now, but she was too stunned to find voice enough to scream for help. The way the two creatures were edging in on her, always staying on opposite sides, told her unquestionably that they were hunting her. She looked from one to the other, watching as they padded forward, more with those powerful rear legs than with their front. Each inch that they crept closer brought the prominent ridge of their spines arching even higher.
The two creatures leapt at her with terrifying speed, using their rear legs to push them off the ground and their extra limbs to provide impetus. Her sharp logic had told her what these creatures were about to do, but it was purely her instinct that had her dropping to the ground at just the right instant. She had barely hit the dirt and started rolling out of the way as they crashed into each other in midair. They fell to the ground and struggled with one another, trying to disentangle their limbs, snarling and screeching simultaneously. The sound chilled Su-Ni to the bone, but she wasted no time gaping at the fighting beasts. She jumped up and began running toward the low campfire in the distance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a third creature take up the chase, screeching loudly.
Now she screamed.
She was running full speed, yelling for help as loudly as she could. She still carried her small pack, but she quickly decided to drop it and concentrate every effort on reaching the soldiers' camp. The fire that had moments ago seemed comfortably close, now looked as though it were miles away. She looked back over her shoulder, hoping that the creatures had paused, if even for a moment, to investigate her pack. She looked just in time to see a sleek fur-lined body flying at her.
Again Su-Ni ducked, but it was not fast enough this time. She was hit with a force that knocked the air from her lungs and pushed her to the ground. She screamed again as the creature's claws dug into her sides. She threw her arms up defensively against the wildly stabbing talons of its forelimbs. The beast's screech tore through the night air and left her ears ringing so that she could not hear the other two bounding up fast to join in the killing.
She knew they were coming anyway, so she continued to scream and tried desperately to roll out from under the beast while still attempting to defend herself. The creature merely screeched louder and dug its claws in deeper. Its talons tore deep gashes in her forearms, which began to lower as Su-Ni tired and as muscle was cut down to the bone. Her screams became weak, pleading sobs. Tears mixed with blood...
* * * * *
Sitting up, Su-Ni looked to her unwitting companions' campfire. It was burning low, though she knew someone must have still been awake, keeping watch and tending the small fire. The young diplomat took comfort in the tiny yellow light in the distance, and she sat watching it for several minutes until her eyelids once again became heavy.
Somewhere to her right, a cricket chirruped, and her eyes snapped open. A little in front of her, another cricket answered. She realized that the small insects had likely been playing all night, and it was her stirring that had momentarily silenced them. She continued to sit still as the whole grassy earth around her slowly came alive with a crescendo of the natural music. Normally the repetitive, high pitched noise would have aggravated her and kept her awake, but her weary muscles and heavy eyelids took that away. The cricketsong was a lullaby, and she was succumbing to its magic.
Her eyes snapped open again.
The sudden silence roared in her ears. She flinched and looked around cautiously. Perhaps she had begun to fall back and caught herself, and the sudden movement had startled the crickets. She peered into the darkness all about her but could not see beyond ten feet in the light of this not-quite-full moon.
Su-Ni froze as a light patter, almost imperceptible, issued from her left. It seemed as though the sound darted quickly to somewhere in front of her. The distant campfire blinked out of her sight for just a moment. She knew something was out there now. Something was circling her. Not ready to panic yet, she wondered if it might be someone from the camp investigating the area.
"Hello?" she ventured, but not too loudly. "Who is there?"
Something flashed in the darkness, low to the ground. Four little circles appeared and disappeared quickly just out beyond the dim light. The young diplomat recognized the reflection of the moonlight in the eyes of some animal.
Or animals.
It seemed to her that it had to be more than one, for she had seen two pairs of eyes flashing in the dark. She peered out all around her, squinting slightly at the effort. The pattering came again, followed by another flash of eyes. She began to worry that a pack of hungry wild dogs had come upon her in the night and saw her for what she was.
Easy prey.
Su-Ni cursed herself for bringing no weapons with her on this journey. Not that she was skilled with any weapon, but she certainly would have felt safer now with some kind of dagger in her hand. She glanced over at the faintly glowing campfire in the distance and wondered if they would hear her if she screamed and, more importantly, if they would arrive in time to save her.
She gritted her teeth against that thought. She was not even sure if the creature, or creatures, were dangerous. She would only reveal herself if she perceived a greater risk in doing otherwise. Of course, she wondered again if there would be enough time to save her when she finally perceived that risk.
A low chitter-like sound broke the silence, causing Su-Ni to jump. She grabbed her small pack and stood quickly, holding it defensively against her chest. She turned all about, trying to catch another glimpse of her stalker. She tried to control her breathing and strained to hear over the pounding of her heart in her ears. That sound was surely not made by any dog.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another movement, and she turned to look. Something stepped into the circle of low light offered by the moon.
She could see that it was some manner of quadruped, but she was confused by the jumble of mass around its head. The creature ventured closer, seemingly smelling the air and turning from side to side. As it stepped toward her and into a bit more light, Su-Ni's confusion melted into tentative fascination. She realized that what she had thought was its entire head was actually its head and an extra set of long, jointed forelimbs that grew from its well-muscled chest. She was also shocked to see that the two pairs of eyes she had seen belonged to only a single creature. It turned its head again to focus on her with the other pair of lidless, glittering black eyes.
Though the rest of the creature's brown fur-covered body was, indeed, dog shaped, the four eyes and the two extra limbs, which now started to unfold and probe the ground in front of it with large, black, single-taloned tips, made it seem almost spiderlike. It chittered again, and Su-Ni noted the massive black beak from which it had issued the sound.
She marveled at the enigmatic looking creature. It seemed to be a jumble of the most unlikely animals she could think of. She also thought, though it did nothing to quell her uneasiness, that the creature had a rather comical face. A bony ridge set high on its flat head made it look a bit surprised to see her. She knew better than to be at ease as those two enormous taloned limbs now pawed at the air.
The creature chittered once more in an almost quizzical tone.
An answering chitter came from behind Su-Ni. She turned quickly to see another of these odd beasts approaching her. Now she started to feel panicked. As they came closer, it seemed that their tapered bodies crouched lower, especially in the rear, where their thickly-built back legs twitched eagerly.
Su-Ni did not doubt that she was in trouble now, but she was too stunned to find voice enough to scream for help. The way the two creatures were edging in on her, always staying on opposite sides, told her unquestionably that they were hunting her. She looked from one to the other, watching as they padded forward, more with those powerful rear legs than with their front. Each inch that they crept closer brought the prominent ridge of their spines arching even higher.
The two creatures leapt at her with terrifying speed, using their rear legs to push them off the ground and their extra limbs to provide impetus. Her sharp logic had told her what these creatures were about to do, but it was purely her instinct that had her dropping to the ground at just the right instant. She had barely hit the dirt and started rolling out of the way as they crashed into each other in midair. They fell to the ground and struggled with one another, trying to disentangle their limbs, snarling and screeching simultaneously. The sound chilled Su-Ni to the bone, but she wasted no time gaping at the fighting beasts. She jumped up and began running toward the low campfire in the distance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a third creature take up the chase, screeching loudly.
Now she screamed.
She was running full speed, yelling for help as loudly as she could. She still carried her small pack, but she quickly decided to drop it and concentrate every effort on reaching the soldiers' camp. The fire that had moments ago seemed comfortably close, now looked as though it were miles away. She looked back over her shoulder, hoping that the creatures had paused, if even for a moment, to investigate her pack. She looked just in time to see a sleek fur-lined body flying at her.
Again Su-Ni ducked, but it was not fast enough this time. She was hit with a force that knocked the air from her lungs and pushed her to the ground. She screamed again as the creature's claws dug into her sides. She threw her arms up defensively against the wildly stabbing talons of its forelimbs. The beast's screech tore through the night air and left her ears ringing so that she could not hear the other two bounding up fast to join in the killing.
She knew they were coming anyway, so she continued to scream and tried desperately to roll out from under the beast while still attempting to defend herself. The creature merely screeched louder and dug its claws in deeper. Its talons tore deep gashes in her forearms, which began to lower as Su-Ni tired and as muscle was cut down to the bone. Her screams became weak, pleading sobs. Tears mixed with blood...
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
To Be Inspired
At this point in time, I am not a bestselling author with years of professional writing experience under my belt. I may be at heart, but in the physical sense, I am not...not yet. I expect to get there someday, though that isn't what draws me back inescapably to my keyboard day after day. Despite my relative inexperience, I think I might still have something of value to the aspiring writer in the way of advice. At the very least, it is an idea that I'm sure any writer, or even any artist, can feel sympathetic about.
The idea is very simple. Inspiration is a gift, but unlike most gifts, this one has a limited time offer. That's why, when inspiration hits, you need to shut up and listen. No matter if you are at work or watching your favorite TV show or getting ready for bed, heed the call of the muses, my friend. You'll regret it if you don't.
I don't know how it works. It's mysterious, almost mystical. That's what makes it so different from any other thought you have throughout the day. When it comes to you, it feels like magic, like faith, like you've left this physical world behind for something altogether more spiritually satisfying. It chills you more deeply than winter ever could and makes the hair on the back of your neck dance electrically. It makes you want to burst out in peals of laughter and tears. Amazing, awesome, incredible. These words are impotent to describe it.
The funny thing of it is, no matter how earth shaking a sudden burst of inspiration is, it can go just as quickly, leaving you wondering why you're standing in the middle of the grocery store looking like the Cheerios box just told you the meaning of life. Trust me. I've been there. And given that I am not the first person to claim that "inspiration is fleeting," I'm guessing others have been there too.
So, here's what you need to do. Always carry around a writing utensil of some type and preferably something to write on as well, although your forearm will work in a pinch, unless it's very hairy, then I don't know what to tell you. But whatever you have to do to get your inspiration down, do it. Stop, drop (everything) and write! Because if you say to yourself, "I'll get it in a few minutes. There's no way I can forget an idea this good," in a few minutes, I think you'll end up being sorely disappointed. Even if you do remember what it was that got you so worked up, it just isn't the same. It doesn't strike you with the same significance as it did.
There's another benefit aside from just making sure you got the message right. The muses love to talk to people who listen. I think you'll find the more you respond to inspiration, the more frequently it comes to you. And don't keep it bottled up either. Inspiration is a message to you. Maybe this message comes from your higher self or some other divine source. But whoever sent it, if you share it with others, you will inspire them. They'll get a peek at this soul-moving moment and be moved by it.
Of course, it is important to remember that not everyone "gets it". And it may be that some are turned off by it. But don't censor yourself by being afraid of what others might think. Art is an expression of how you see reality. It is a release for those of us who have too much inside us to share any other way. If we suppress that, we are lost. We are imprisoned in a bland external shell where we secretly go insane as our desire to be understood and accepted for what we are consumes us.
The idea is very simple. Inspiration is a gift, but unlike most gifts, this one has a limited time offer. That's why, when inspiration hits, you need to shut up and listen. No matter if you are at work or watching your favorite TV show or getting ready for bed, heed the call of the muses, my friend. You'll regret it if you don't.
I don't know how it works. It's mysterious, almost mystical. That's what makes it so different from any other thought you have throughout the day. When it comes to you, it feels like magic, like faith, like you've left this physical world behind for something altogether more spiritually satisfying. It chills you more deeply than winter ever could and makes the hair on the back of your neck dance electrically. It makes you want to burst out in peals of laughter and tears. Amazing, awesome, incredible. These words are impotent to describe it.
The funny thing of it is, no matter how earth shaking a sudden burst of inspiration is, it can go just as quickly, leaving you wondering why you're standing in the middle of the grocery store looking like the Cheerios box just told you the meaning of life. Trust me. I've been there. And given that I am not the first person to claim that "inspiration is fleeting," I'm guessing others have been there too.
So, here's what you need to do. Always carry around a writing utensil of some type and preferably something to write on as well, although your forearm will work in a pinch, unless it's very hairy, then I don't know what to tell you. But whatever you have to do to get your inspiration down, do it. Stop, drop (everything) and write! Because if you say to yourself, "I'll get it in a few minutes. There's no way I can forget an idea this good," in a few minutes, I think you'll end up being sorely disappointed. Even if you do remember what it was that got you so worked up, it just isn't the same. It doesn't strike you with the same significance as it did.
There's another benefit aside from just making sure you got the message right. The muses love to talk to people who listen. I think you'll find the more you respond to inspiration, the more frequently it comes to you. And don't keep it bottled up either. Inspiration is a message to you. Maybe this message comes from your higher self or some other divine source. But whoever sent it, if you share it with others, you will inspire them. They'll get a peek at this soul-moving moment and be moved by it.
Of course, it is important to remember that not everyone "gets it". And it may be that some are turned off by it. But don't censor yourself by being afraid of what others might think. Art is an expression of how you see reality. It is a release for those of us who have too much inside us to share any other way. If we suppress that, we are lost. We are imprisoned in a bland external shell where we secretly go insane as our desire to be understood and accepted for what we are consumes us.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Surreality
It looked like a cool ride. One of those track-guided, animatronic-filled trips through some Hollywood fantasy. We'd been riding them all day. But this one had a twist.
We had only vaguely registered the inclined walkways as the line zigzagged through the building that was the front for this amusement park adrenaline service. We oohed and aahed along in the quietly clacking conveyance as latex-covered machines lurched unnaturally at us, and carefully orchestrated explosions warmed our surprised faces. All the while we were carried subtly higher. The cart clacked ahead into darkness, and a rectangular light appeared ahead of us. This was the end of the ride. Or was it?
We squinted as our trolley came out into the sunlight. To our mild shock, we were on a track 15 stories above the park. Around us the scaffolding rose higher for purposes unknown to us, for up ahead the track was level. The view was breathtaking. We were stopped, perhaps to admire what lay below.
"What's going on?" my wife asked, a little startled.
"I don't know," I answered, "but it's cool."
She looked around appraisingly, then shook her head in what was a decidedly decided manner. "No, it isn't."
"C'mon, baby, it's just part of the ride," I told her reassuringly.
She was most assuredly not reassured. "Well, I don't like it," she said in that decided way.
"Relax," I said a little more insistently. "The ride's almost over anyway."
My wife regarded me somewhat venomously. "Why aren't we moving?" she bit.
"I told you," I said as diplomatically as I could, "it's part of the ride. Just enjoy the view."
She shook her head again, discomfort creeping into her expression. "Something's wrong. I want to get off."
"Don't be ridiculous," I said with a roll of my eyes. "We'll get off when the ride's over."
"No," she said in that snaky way, "I'm getting off now."
"What?" I asked with an incredulous snicker.
She didn't answer. As I watched in disbelief she raised the safety bar effortlessly and climbed out of her seat.
"Honey, what are you doing?!" I cried out fearfully.
Without a word, she continued to the side of the track and grabbed one of the wide metal supports on the scaffold and climbed out onto it.
"Oh my God!" I yelled, fumbling with my safety bar. It was safely stuck in place, as it should have been. I looked up in panic.
My wife was climbing down, devoid of fear, balancing precariously as she grabbed onto another support and lowered herself. She was below the level of the track now. I could no longer see her.
"Baby, don't move! Stay where you are!" I called on the verge of tears. I rattled my safety bar forcefully. There was a sudden click, and the bar rose. I leapt out of my seat. Then, I remembered where I was. I glanced around and felt a bit sick. Looking through the track below, I saw the ground, 150 stories' descent, straight down.
"Baby," I called out weakly. "Baby, please say something to me!" She still wasn't answering, but I could hear shuffling and grunting below as she lowered herself down some more. Knowing I would have no other choice, I shakily stepped onto the track and edged over to the scaffold.
I looked over the precipice. The criss-crossing pattern of the massive scaffold played cruel games with my vision and increased my vertigo exponentially. I swayed on my feet and caught myself on one of the massive supports. Closing my eyes, I shook my head to clear away the dizziness. Slowly, I opened them again and looked for my wife, my teeth clenched with determination.
There she was, continuing her trek downward. I was amazed at how much progress she had made, but it didn't do anything to calm me. Seeing I was already part if the way there, I pulled the rest of my body onto the support. My stomach felt like it was trying to stay behind. I resisted its persistent urging and pressed it and myself against the support, clutching the metal for dear life.
With my head threatening to shake loose from my neck, I looked hesitantly over the edge of the support to see how much further she had gotten. She had been climbing down diagonally, following the strangely twisting metal on its way to the ground. Currently, she was somewhere on a part of the scaffold that hung out in the open air before curving back almost directly below. She was about halfway down.
"Who the hell designed this thing?" I couldn't help but ask out of exasperation. I tried to push myself up to grab another support and begin lowering myself, but I couldn't. My hand wouldn't move away from helping to hold me up, no matter how insistently I told it to. I looked back down again.
The scaffold below was swaying. I don't mean it was swaying slightly in the breeze. I mean it was swinging from side to side in a 20 foot arc through the air as my wife shifted her weight out on the vertex of this weird bulge on the illogical jumble of steel.
I screamed, "No! Baby, please stop! Please!" My whole body shook as I began sobbing. It made the slight swaying sensation that I felt up there more pronounced. I laid my head down and squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could as tears forced their way out, gripping the support under me with all my strength. I prayed that, whatever she did, she would eventually make it down safely. At the same time I scolded myself for being too much of a coward to go after her.
A few minutes later I heard some shuffling and grunting. I don't really remember everything that happened next. I just know my wife was there. She had climbed back up for me. She knew I was terrified. I remember her guiding me back to my seat on the coaster. Once we were seated, the safety bars came down, and we started moving again. I don't know if the track descended gradually or if there was some kind of death-defying drop. Honestly, I didn't care about the ride anymore, except to get off it.
"Did you have fun?" the worker at the bottom asked cheerily, apparently oblivious to the whole fiasco.
I was speechless.
"It was very exciting," my wife said with a grin.
I continued with the speechlessness.
"Great, make sure you get a picture of it at the stand over there!" the pimply adolescent enthused.
"Oh, cool," my wife replied.
She guided me, shivering, over to the wall lined with monitors. Row after row showed empty seats at various points through the ride. They cycled through the last several stills.
"Ooh, look!" my wife squealed joyfully. "There you are."
There, on one of the monitors, was me. My face was pressed against the cold steel of one of the supports, my eyelids strained from the force of pushing them together, tears quite clearly ran down my terrified cheeks. My wife walked up to the vendor and pointed, cackling with glee.
"Who makes a roller coaster out of scaffolding anyway?" I muttered resentfully under my breath.
Man...dreams are messed up.
We had only vaguely registered the inclined walkways as the line zigzagged through the building that was the front for this amusement park adrenaline service. We oohed and aahed along in the quietly clacking conveyance as latex-covered machines lurched unnaturally at us, and carefully orchestrated explosions warmed our surprised faces. All the while we were carried subtly higher. The cart clacked ahead into darkness, and a rectangular light appeared ahead of us. This was the end of the ride. Or was it?
We squinted as our trolley came out into the sunlight. To our mild shock, we were on a track 15 stories above the park. Around us the scaffolding rose higher for purposes unknown to us, for up ahead the track was level. The view was breathtaking. We were stopped, perhaps to admire what lay below.
"What's going on?" my wife asked, a little startled.
"I don't know," I answered, "but it's cool."
She looked around appraisingly, then shook her head in what was a decidedly decided manner. "No, it isn't."
"C'mon, baby, it's just part of the ride," I told her reassuringly.
She was most assuredly not reassured. "Well, I don't like it," she said in that decided way.
"Relax," I said a little more insistently. "The ride's almost over anyway."
My wife regarded me somewhat venomously. "Why aren't we moving?" she bit.
"I told you," I said as diplomatically as I could, "it's part of the ride. Just enjoy the view."
She shook her head again, discomfort creeping into her expression. "Something's wrong. I want to get off."
"Don't be ridiculous," I said with a roll of my eyes. "We'll get off when the ride's over."
"No," she said in that snaky way, "I'm getting off now."
"What?" I asked with an incredulous snicker.
She didn't answer. As I watched in disbelief she raised the safety bar effortlessly and climbed out of her seat.
"Honey, what are you doing?!" I cried out fearfully.
Without a word, she continued to the side of the track and grabbed one of the wide metal supports on the scaffold and climbed out onto it.
"Oh my God!" I yelled, fumbling with my safety bar. It was safely stuck in place, as it should have been. I looked up in panic.
My wife was climbing down, devoid of fear, balancing precariously as she grabbed onto another support and lowered herself. She was below the level of the track now. I could no longer see her.
"Baby, don't move! Stay where you are!" I called on the verge of tears. I rattled my safety bar forcefully. There was a sudden click, and the bar rose. I leapt out of my seat. Then, I remembered where I was. I glanced around and felt a bit sick. Looking through the track below, I saw the ground, 150 stories' descent, straight down.
"Baby," I called out weakly. "Baby, please say something to me!" She still wasn't answering, but I could hear shuffling and grunting below as she lowered herself down some more. Knowing I would have no other choice, I shakily stepped onto the track and edged over to the scaffold.
I looked over the precipice. The criss-crossing pattern of the massive scaffold played cruel games with my vision and increased my vertigo exponentially. I swayed on my feet and caught myself on one of the massive supports. Closing my eyes, I shook my head to clear away the dizziness. Slowly, I opened them again and looked for my wife, my teeth clenched with determination.
There she was, continuing her trek downward. I was amazed at how much progress she had made, but it didn't do anything to calm me. Seeing I was already part if the way there, I pulled the rest of my body onto the support. My stomach felt like it was trying to stay behind. I resisted its persistent urging and pressed it and myself against the support, clutching the metal for dear life.
With my head threatening to shake loose from my neck, I looked hesitantly over the edge of the support to see how much further she had gotten. She had been climbing down diagonally, following the strangely twisting metal on its way to the ground. Currently, she was somewhere on a part of the scaffold that hung out in the open air before curving back almost directly below. She was about halfway down.
"Who the hell designed this thing?" I couldn't help but ask out of exasperation. I tried to push myself up to grab another support and begin lowering myself, but I couldn't. My hand wouldn't move away from helping to hold me up, no matter how insistently I told it to. I looked back down again.
The scaffold below was swaying. I don't mean it was swaying slightly in the breeze. I mean it was swinging from side to side in a 20 foot arc through the air as my wife shifted her weight out on the vertex of this weird bulge on the illogical jumble of steel.
I screamed, "No! Baby, please stop! Please!" My whole body shook as I began sobbing. It made the slight swaying sensation that I felt up there more pronounced. I laid my head down and squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could as tears forced their way out, gripping the support under me with all my strength. I prayed that, whatever she did, she would eventually make it down safely. At the same time I scolded myself for being too much of a coward to go after her.
A few minutes later I heard some shuffling and grunting. I don't really remember everything that happened next. I just know my wife was there. She had climbed back up for me. She knew I was terrified. I remember her guiding me back to my seat on the coaster. Once we were seated, the safety bars came down, and we started moving again. I don't know if the track descended gradually or if there was some kind of death-defying drop. Honestly, I didn't care about the ride anymore, except to get off it.
"Did you have fun?" the worker at the bottom asked cheerily, apparently oblivious to the whole fiasco.
I was speechless.
"It was very exciting," my wife said with a grin.
I continued with the speechlessness.
"Great, make sure you get a picture of it at the stand over there!" the pimply adolescent enthused.
"Oh, cool," my wife replied.
She guided me, shivering, over to the wall lined with monitors. Row after row showed empty seats at various points through the ride. They cycled through the last several stills.
"Ooh, look!" my wife squealed joyfully. "There you are."
There, on one of the monitors, was me. My face was pressed against the cold steel of one of the supports, my eyelids strained from the force of pushing them together, tears quite clearly ran down my terrified cheeks. My wife walked up to the vendor and pointed, cackling with glee.
"Who makes a roller coaster out of scaffolding anyway?" I muttered resentfully under my breath.
Man...dreams are messed up.
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