The Night’s Watch

Night on the Street

I went out twice this week after dark, once by myself to take low-light photos, and again with my wife perambulating through one of the largest parks in our city, a 216-acre expanse with lighted, paved walking/biking paths, a small lake, playgrounds, and wetlands and forested zones, complete with wildlife like deer, raccoons, opossums, and herons. It was 20ºC tonight when we arrived at the park, about 10 minutes after sunset. The drive into the park is oddly non-urban, in the middle of the city, meandering through a wooded area, then past the small wetland. The lacrosse field was brightly lit so we decided it would be a nice, safe place to park the car. With our flashlight in hand we began walking as it became dark.

The stars began to shine, the few we can see in the city. As we walked along the path we were a little surprised to see so many other people who had the same idea we did. Dogs and their people were in the dog park; the dogs were very excited to see us, until another group showed up, and we were yesterday’s news. On we went. We came across some teens rollicking while their grandmother watched nearby. Then there were the lacrosse players practicing. Overall it was an idyllic scene, albeit one where it was dark and raccoons and bunnies made an appearance. We didn’t feel unsafe for a moment. It helped that there were others around. I wish everyplace could feel like this. And that is the paradox.

The safety we felt walking in the park at night came from the safety of our community, which allows us to be more confident. Our city has a pretty vibrant downtown with shops, bars and restaurants. There are some unique little shops like one that specializes in vinyl records, and a comic book store next to that. Any mild evening you will find people out, even if most of the shops are closed, coming in and out of the pub or window-shopping on the street. There is crime in the city, and I am not naïve. But we can take measures to lessen our chances of becoming victims of crime. The paradox is that the nice parts of town where crime appears low can sometimes become very attractive to criminals.

Not everyone thinks about preventing crime, until they themselves are affected by it, directly or indirectly. I must admit it isn’t entirely safe for me to go out at night carrying an expensive camera. And I was anxious when I encountered someone walking out of a dark corner of the park the other night. He thought I was carrying a sniper rifle, but I explained it was a tripod. I did mention that I didn’t mind if people assumed I was armed. And living in Texas, that’s a given. I do carry a knife with me, but it’s mostly for utility purposes. It’s probably not a bad idea to carry a personal siren or pepper spray just in case of muggers. In larger cities I will carry an old wallet with fake credit cards and about $18 in small bills. If someone demands my wallet, they get one with no objection, but it won’t be a big loss for me. Except that I will probably sleep with one eye open for a while.

For my wife and me, we felt pretty safe with those teens and their grandmother. The kids didn’t appear to be menacing, and anyone who goes to the park with their nan can’t be the sort who would cause any trouble. The dog park visitors come with their own protection, to some extent. A spunky terrier will take on someone 10 times their size if the chips are down. I think more people would venture out like we did if they were convinced it was safe. There is some good advice on keeping yourself safe. The basics principals are still quite sound: There is safety in numbers, crooks don’t like attention, and most people really do want to help. But it’s wise to be cautious. Just don’t get to the point that you are distrustful of everyone.

Being out in the world shows others that they can maybe join in. These past couple years have driven people away from gatherings, and those who wish us harm thrive on that. Scams abound that prey on our fears. We need to approach situations with a healthy dose of skepticism. If something sounds too good to be true, it most likely is. Beware of offers with claims of “free” this or that, or anything that promises results that sound like fantasy. There is no cure for cancer yet, so don’t fall for that one.

Meanwhile the park at night seemed pretty safe. I’ll do it again soon, but I’ll probably take better precautions when I venture out alone with my camera. Photography in low light conditions requires long exposure times with the camera firmly attached to a tripod. That can weigh you down a bit, but like I said, it could be mistaken for a weapon, so perhaps no one will mess with me, except the police. That’s another topic entirely.

I urge everyone to stay safe but don’t be afraid of venturing out. The people I encountered were probably just as nervous as I was. If they were not just a little uncomfortable being in the park at night, they probably haven’t had to consider it, and God bless them.

Good night, everyone.

Habit Forming

I’m not getting any younger. About 16 months ago I picked up disc golf. I played it back in the 80’s with my brother, but we weren’t serious players, not that you could say that about me now. But I have the benefit of YouTube as a coach, and the game is much more popular now, so there are courses all over. The discs are more precisely engineers these days, with ratings for speed, glide, turn, and fade. The joy in the game for me comes from being outdoors on a hike, as it were, taking in some forest bathing. I’ve also enjoyed seeing my game improve, which lessens the frustration.

In addition to just moving around, I also incorporated another aspect to my activity. As I go to pick up my disc after I’ve thrown it, I now stretch when I reach for it on the ground. I recently began crossing one leg in front of the other to maximize the stretching. Over the course of 18 “holes” (they’re actually baskets), I stretch 55 to 60 times (depending on how well I’m playing). So there’s even more health benefits than simply walking in the forest.

Now, after several months of the combined activity, I find that I stretch every time I reach to pick something up from the floor or the ground outside. What was initially a conscious effort has now become something of a good habit. I often don’t even realize I’m doing it until I feel my leg muscles and tendons being worked. I otherwise wouldn’t push myself that often throughout the course of my day. But since I’m not really thinking about it I see what a great benefit it is to put in a little extra exercise in the leftover spaces of my life.

If this doesn’t sound very strenuous, keep in mind that I am a non-athlete of a certain age. I watched Nixon resign from office. That should tell you something. But I would wager that not many of us are moving around enough these days; I don’t see many people in the neighborhood or at the park around lunchtime. And it’s quite taboo in Texas to walk anywhere. There’s a stigma to being a pedestrian here. Being ambulatory signals to others that one can’t afford a car, or that he or she is prohibited from driving as a result of some punitive action. Therefore in cities all over Texas (except Fort Worth, for some odd reason) people generally do not walk even though it is well established that this simple act will add years to your life. People smoke, too. Go figure.

Since I started playing disc golf I have sort of acclimated to whatever conditions present themselves. I was at the park just as the ice was melting last week. Today it was 21ºC and sunny, in February. I find that I’m comfortable in shorts and a t-shirt just about 360 days out of the year. It could be that my metabolism has made me feel warmer than I would otherwise. Or it might be another side-effect of being outdoors just about every day. Granted, when the ice was forming I remained indoors mostly, only venturing out to take out the trash. I found that my comfort level bottoms out around -8ºC, at least when I don’t have a coat. I’m no superhero. Then again, there’s no such thing.

Now that spring has come to Texas – that’s basically whenever we declare it to be – I hope to see more activity in my neighborhood; people walking, kids playing. I do have to hand it to the kids who insisted on playing basketball while there was still a sheet of ice on the street. They put me to shame, but then again, I have 40 years on them.

I’d have to recommend the stretch maneuver to anyone who does not suffer from a condition that makes this very difficult. Over a few weeks of bending a stretching you will find yourself doing it without thinking. And you’ll be pleasantly surprised how much flexibility you’ve gained. Also playing a round of disc golf wouldn’t hurt, unless you attempt to recover a disc from the bottom of a canyon, which I have done. This, I do not recommend. Consider it, as my wife puts it, a “cover charge” for the experience.

Human Behavior, Explained

True story:

My wife and I were on a road trip to what the casual observer would consider the middle of nowhere. They would be right. The geographical center of Texas is beautiful on some level, but there isn’t much to see or do, unless you are visiting someone who happens to live there. So, nowhere we were, stopping to fuel up and to grab a snack. If you should ever find yourself traveling by car in central Texas it is a good practice to fill your tank whenever you encounter a gas station, even one with questionable restrooms and slightly warm sodas. That’s what you might expect from a solitary Gas-n-Go or whatever it’s called, sitting lonely at the crossroads of a town of 200 people. Surprisingly, this pit stop had a supply of some of my favorite things: BBQ Pringles and Kombucha.

With our provisions on hand, fueled up, and taking advantage of one of the last clean restrooms on our path, we were on our way. Before I go on I should explain something about myself. For the last almost 40 years I have held onto one peculiar habit: I drive with both hands on the wheel. I can take one hand off the steering wheel in order to shift gears, but that only takes 1/2 a second. Otherwise I always keep both my hands steadfastly at 10 and 2 (I later adapted to a more modern 8 and 4). But I have never been comfortable driving with one hand, like my wife does. As I positioned my car to turn left onto the road that would take us to our next destination, there I was with both hands on the wheel, scanning for oncoming traffic. It is strange that there are so many cars crossing paths in this spot on the planet, but it is the only gas station around. While I was negotiating this seemingly simple maneuver exiting a parking lot, my wife asked me if I wanted some Pringles. I said, “sure,” and she handed me a small stack of about 8 to 10 crisps.

So there I was, one hand on the steering wheel, turn signal clicking, clicking, CLICKING! And my other hand, palm up, holding the Pringles. Add to that some friendly Texan offering to let me out. Rather than make him wait any longer, and unable to resist my compulsion, and with other cars behind me itching to get on the road, I opened wide and shoved the entire stack in my mouth. This probably looked a little strange to the man watching for me to exit. My wife exploded in laughter. We imagined what the man in the other car might have thought, looking on while an ostensibly sane person was attempting to get into the Guinness Book while pulling out of a gas station. He probably went home and told the story to his family, and they would laugh and think how crazy I must be. Meanwhile, I have a very real need to have my hands free while I’m driving. It’s what enables me to negotiate rush hour in Dallas.

I managed to swallow the Pringles and get safely down the road, the embarrassment long behind me, this confession notwithstanding. I’m not sure if I need to change my driving habits. They suit me. It also helps that I’ve been driving since 1982, and I have all-wheel drive, and I’m a maniac who learned on Stemmons Freeway. My wife still drives with one hand on the wheel, even though it’s an automatic.

But we are what we are. Some of us don’t like the outdoors. Some are afraid of the dark. Some people can’t tell a joke. And I drive like my grandpa. I’m okay with who I am. I make people laugh. I’m a pretty good cook. I can fix computer problems, and I can sleep most nights. My wife is a perfect match for me. In a way you could say she is perfect. As flawed as I am, perhaps I’m perfect for my place in the cosmos. Should I change? What will the repercussions be to the universe? Should I be concerned either way?

Next time we take a road trip, I plan to avoid snacking while driving. I think it’s a distraction, and we have enough distracted drivers out there.

Photo by Bill Dickinson/Flickr