January 2017 at approximately 0600, on the Canadian prairies and in the 5th coldest city in the world with a population over 500,000. For the previous 2 weeks, the temperature, with windchill, hovers around the -30C to -40C then today it has settled in at +1C. A January heatwave has enveloped the province.
The Protagonist: Your hero is a very fit man of 70. He works out practically every day and is as fit as a man of 45. Ok, maybe that is an exaggeration. But, trust me, he is fit.
The Antagonist: PD, Snow, Stupidity. Take your pick.
Rising Action: It is unusually warm for this time of year. It is almost spring-like and it is at this time your hero decides he should get his trekking poles and do a 2 mile circuit. First he must find his poles as he has not used them a few months. Too cold to trek outdoors ergo, for the winter he prefers the warmth of his basement and the mind blowing numbness of the treadmill. Boring? You betcha! Warm? God, yes. Bring on summer. Winter is no longer fun. In fact, he thinks he may even be allergic to the cold!! Today; however, is a workout day and with the current temperature in the not life-threatening zone, your hero bounces into the night. His poles stab the snowy sidewalk and propel him onward. He feels good. After about 7 blocks, he is beginning to feel festinationary (I made up that word) and he sees two anonymous headlights coming straight at him. "Side walk plow," he curses. Your hero is no fool. He knows there is a another sidewalk across the street. He crosses the road only to find another plow heading his way.
Conflict: Whattodo? What should our hero do? He could turn around and go home, but that's not going to happen. He is left with a choice between homeward bound or taking a residential street about 2k from a school. The choice is easy, go to the school and cut through their yard. There is a sliding hill there to add to the workout. He treks to the bottom of the hill and sits down to make any festinationary feelings dissipate He skirts the hill (to much effort can cause festination) and surveys the school yard. He has a choice. He can take a path through the snow that has been beaten flat by the feet of hundreds of guys, or, he can take a shorter route along the fence until it meets an opening to the road.
Climax: For some unspeakable reason he chooses the fence route.
A decision that will live in infamy and which our hero describes as being "catastrophic".
Denouement: He is still a little uncertain, feeling the forces pulling him down and forward. He breaks into a festinating run and the inevitable happens. He falls forward and avoids a face full of snow by using his poles as brakes. He sees the beginning of a path along he fence but it is dark at 6:15 AM and he cannot see any openings. "There must be openings," he mutters aloud, and he continues his trek. The snow is getting higher and it is obvious the children don't play here. He makes his first fall, face first into the snow which, by now, has reached his thighs. His dignity is fading. He sees the opening 20 yards away and with much struggle and blue air, he festinates his way to the road. He makes it home safely, without incident, his body feeling as if he survived 10 rounds with George Chuvelo
Moral of the Story: Sorry there is none. However, as I sit here now, Frost's beautiful allegorical poem, The Road Not Taken is in my mind and I am here to tell you PWP, when confronted by a fork in the road, take the well used road and let the adventurers try the one less traveled by. It's not worth the effort and loss of dignity to wallow in the snow on the road not taken. Be a follower, not a leader (I am kidding)
No comments:
Post a Comment