Fear is a complicated thing. Last summer, I stood on my deck with the camcorder rolling as a funnel cloud drifted right over the top of the house. It didn't scare me a bit. You know, since I possess the speed to outrun Mother Nature and all.
Contrast that with the other day, when I walked around the back corner of the house and came face-to-face with a stray black cat. We were both mighty surprised. I pretty much jumped straight up in the air. So did the cat.
Before my feet reached the ground, my mind had already processed the situation. This was like a 10 lb. cat. Even if it attacked me, I'm pretty certain I could have taken him. A lion or tiger, probably not.
I don't like my chances against a puma or even a lynx, for that matter. Basically, anything bobcat-sized or smaller should be a survivable battle.
I'm not overly superstitious, but I did feel better that he didn't cross my path. He ran more perpendicular to me, so I think I am safe from any curses.
I have a mixed track record with animals and bravery. For example, I came within close range of a black bear once and I stayed relatively calm. Holding a hunting rifle and being awake may have given me some nerve in that case.
But once when I was a teenager, I carved out a nice chaise lounge in a snow drift while deer hunting. I promptly fell asleep. Trust me - nothing will jolt you from a slumber more quickly than the gentle tickle of an opposum's whiskers as it sniffs at your ear. Gross and scary.
Holding a gun and fast asleep? Me not so brave, Kimosabe. I yelled so loud that I was hoarse for a couple of days. Yelling seemed like the right thing to do under the circumstances. There may have been some naughty words mixed in.
The unexpected cat/possum encounters notwithstanding, I believe that I have jumped higher in my life. In fact, I may hold an unofficial record for scaling a flight of stairs in a single bound.
We have a basement fridge (y'know, the one that's a real solid runner but you don't want company to see) and I went down there one night to grab some drinks.
I didn't turn on the lights downstairs, as the fridge is near the base of the steps and I could see it just fine without full illumination. When I closed the fridge door and turned to go back up the stairs, I saw a pair of intense red eyes glaring at me from across the basement.
On a stack of Bibles, I do not remember my feet touching a single step on the way back upstairs. In the end, it turns out that it wasn't Satan or a lesser demonic entity stalking me down there.
No, the red eyes were actually the lights on the chargers for my cordless power tools over on the workbench. How odd that my reaction completely trumped logic and my assumption that the Devil himself lived in my basement seemed like the most plausible explanation.
Fear affects people in many different ways. While cruising down the freeway recently, I saw a jackass pulling off stunts of Hollywood quality as he wove his way through traffic at an astounding rate. It would have been quite impressive if I didn't feel that so many lives were at risk.
Then a plastic grocery bag floated gently into his lane. He locked up the brakes and cranked his car straight onto the shoulder to avoid hitting it. Golly, there was smoke coming off his tires and everything.
In summary, narrowly avoiding collisions with multiple 2,000 lb. cars and fully loaded semi trucks at 75 mph = no worries. Hitting a 1 oz. stationary plastic bag in 2,000 lb. car while moving 75 mph = EEEEEEEK!
Rather than using spike strips, I think law enforcement should consider sprinkling Pick 'n Save bags on the roads during high-speed chases. It seems at least as effective, and I'm assuming that the cost is much less.
So there you have it. Sometimes evenI have no idea where I'm going with some of these things until I get there. This post is shining proof of that.
