Fear and Loathing in My Back Yard

"There's an old joke - um... two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of them says, "Boy, the food at this place is really terrible." The other one says, "Yeah, I know; and such small portions." Well, that's essentially how I feel about life - full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it's all over much too quickly. The... the other important joke, for me, is one that's usually attributed to Groucho Marx; but, I think it appears originally in Freud's "Wit and Its Relation to the Unconscious," and it goes like this - I'm paraphrasing - um, "I would never want to belong to any club that would have someone like me for a member." That's the key joke of my adult life, in terms of my relationships with women."

That's a Woody Allen quote. It's from the opening scene of Annie Hall. I almost forgot about this movie, but it's one of my favourites. It's smart, funny, and unpleasantly mirrors real life. No matter how many times I watch it, I laugh at all the same parts, and cry at all the same parts. I recommend you watch it, if you're into that sort of thing.

Anyway, that wasn't the point of this post. I just thought I'd mention it, while it was fresh in my mind. The point, children, is that I wanted to share a little Gonzo Journalism with you...

It was Friday afternoon - a beautiful afternoon, at that. I'd just had some minor dental surgery and two Tylenol-3s with – as an afterthought – a bit of the Merlot. It had just been sitting on my counter, left over from an evening of moderate (me) to heavy (him) drinking with my dear brother, so I decided, having already taken the T-3s, that it would be a good mix.

Under the influence of this ‘good mix’, I decided to leave the safe familiarity of my house, in favour of the less safe, less familiar lurking danger of open woods I’d never been to before.

I ignored the dull pain in my mouth and ventured down to the Pipeline Road. I had walked probably 1/2 a kilometre when I realized that I’d forgotten my Ipod. Those of you who are reading this and pre-emptively deciding what happens next are saying, “so clearly she said, ‘forget it’, and continued on her way.”

No. I turned around and walked the thirty minutes to home to get PodBody, my Ipod. It was then and only then – an hour into my walk – that my walk could begin.

I took a different route the second time around - down an ATV trail through the woods. I was in the middle of this euphoric high from the pain medication and had to stop approximately every thirty seconds to admire how beautiful the hills and valleys and meadows and trees were.

It was a windy afternoon and the breeze in the trees was making this whispy whooshing sound that I was a bit transfixed by. Magnolia Mountain by Ryan Adams and the Cardinals was playing from PodBody and I turned it down low because the whispy whooshing seemed to go with the song perfectly. I think I even said aloud to no one at all, "the trees are singing to me!"

(again, I was on pain medication. I'm normally try to suppress the hippie in me a little more than that.)

So I'm walking down this trail, loving life, when it forks. To the right looks exactly like the trail I've been walking – same width, same texture, same wear. The trail to the left is a narrower and grassier, like it's been used less.

So, two roads diverged in a wood and I - I took the one less travelled by… of course. Although it didn't really make all the difference, as it did for Robert Frost. Unless the difference was referring to the fact that I’d been comfortable on the original road, but on the second I was a nervous wreck because of its destination.

It was truly bizarre. So bizarre, that I think I’ll have to go back when I'm more sensible to see if my mental image is accurate.

The trail came out at this big, big clearing. It seemed like it could have been a rock quarry at some point. Around the perimeter, going clockwise, was a large bonfire pit, about 100 telephone-poll-sized pieces of lumber, crates, and other wood scraps in a pile so large, it probably took up 100-square-feet, then a pile 50-feet high of shredded tires (it looked like the tire fire from The Simpsons... without the fire), then closest to me was a display of liquor bottles, set up in what looked to be a "now the people will know we were here" type of scenario.

Cutting through the middle of the whole thing was a segment of a rusted train track, not attached to anything on either end.

At the opposite corner, there was what appeared to be a continuation of the trail on which I had been walking, so, I decided to keep going, and walked over a knoll of dirt to officially step into this quarry.

Until that moment, I’d been on the outskirts, hidden by the trees. But now I was ten-feet into the open expanse and suddenly and irrationally felt that my life was in danger.

I think this fear was started by a dog barking in the distance, but in moments, had escalated itself into that scene from Batman and Robin with that underground motorcycle gang (you know, the super hardcore race that Alicia Silverstone joins and then Chris O'Donnell joins it too in an effort to protect her. And all the motocycle people play really dirty and people keep wiping out and then Chris O’Donnell and Alicia Silverstone slide down an unfinished bridge and almost plummet into the icy waters below). Luckily, there were no bridges around, so I didn’t think that would happen to me, but I did think that if I were to walk further toward the centre of this great big open quarry that suddenly, from the trail on the opposite end, motorcycles would pour in, drive in circles around me, taunting me and eventually they'd tie me to the rusty railroad track and do trick jumps over me and then maybe inexplicably a train would appear and things would just go down hill from there.

Needless to say, I started having a bit of an anxiety attack, and ran back in the direction I came, and hid in a bush for three song-lengths. When I felt better about my chances of not being held captive by a vicious motorcycle gang from Gotham City, I walked back down the trail, once again marvelling at the nature around me and how nicely Ryan Adams and the Cardinals complimented the setting (I believe at this time, PodBody was playing the Loft Sessions version of Peaceful Valley, if that means anything to you, which unless you're Dave, or Ryan Adams himself, it probably doesn't)

Anyway, the rest of the walk home was uneventful, and erred on the side of quite pleasant.

But I thought I'd share this with you to teach some valuable life lessons. So let's recap

Don't mix Merlot and pain medication
If you do mix Merlot and pain medication, don't go for a bit of a wander.
If you do go for a bit of a wander, don't take the road less travelled.
If you do take the road less travelled, and end up in a bizarre and scary new world, just hide in a bush for a while, then you'll be fine.

Any questions?