Bloody shins, battered elbows, bruised psyche. These are the afflictions known all too well to those bold enough to run through Manhattan's city streets.
More startling than the maladies themselves, however, is their source. For while conventional wisdom might suggest that such injuries could result only from run-ins with such metalic monstrocities as cars, cabs and the occasional streetcleaner, such is not the case. Not at all.
Far more dangerous than any of these malevolent machines is a fleet so brutal, so unrelenting, so forceful and so unkind that it would be make even the darkest characters in Stephen King's mind shutter with fear.
Pedestrians.
That's right, pedestrians. And just like your angel in the centerfold, your devil in the blue dress, their disarming looks belie their cruelest intentions.
On the surface, people appear nice, caring and concerned, considerate and even downright convivial. But on the sidewalk, they morph into hideous creatures, raucous and rowdy, unfailingly rude.
How, I wonder, does this transformation take place? And, more importantly, how can we correcnt it?
My proposal, simpl, straightforward and a trifle alogical as it may be, is to walk like we drive.
Take the highway to the bi-way, the roadway to the walkwaky, the park n' ride to the sidewalk.
I'm not even talking about the complex rules. Though one does chuckle at the thought of befuddled pedestrians trying diligently to decide if they're allowed to take a left on red (yes, only if you are going from one one-way street to another) or a right on green (no, if the green arrow points in your direction).
I'm talking about the simple stuff. Accept and understand that there are other people besides you who are using the sidewalk at the same time. Avoid cutting them off, bumping into them, or generally disrupting their commutes any more than you already have.
Look where you're going. Pass with care. Don't walk four abreast on a crowded path. Don't walk three-abreast on a bustling path. Heck, if you're going to walk anywhere with a breast, put it on a leash.
And speaking of leashes, watch where your dog wanders off to. Stay near him so that his leash does not become a debilhitating tripwire for those of us above six inches tall.
It's simple stuff, really. Basic Golden Rule-type ideas. But, in this self-consumed world in which we live, where people race from home to office and back again with a cell phone in one ear and an iPod in the other, it's increasingly important.
Just imagine, if you will, what the world would look like if for just one day we switched our habits in the other direction--- we drove with the same callous indifference with which we walk. You wouldn't be able to get anywhere, so voluminous would be the pile of crumpled metal and smashed cars.
But hey, you might not even notice. After all, you're probably late for work, your girlfriend is yelling at you and Guns N' Roses just broke into the chorus of Paradise City.
