The Prisoner

“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I’ve ever known.” Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters

This is a horror story so terrible I hope it doesn’t cause panic amongst the newspaper reading public. I say that because it is a true story, none of which is made up, fake, false, or anything like that. If you read it here, you can trust it is the genuine article in which there is no artifice or dissimulation. OK?

You’ve been warned.

I left the house to run some errands the other day and as I got a few blocks away I tapped my hip to discover (to my great horror) that I had left my cell phone at home on the table. In other words, I had ventured forth into the void (sometimes called the “neighborhood”) with no way to communicate, locate myself (via GPS), or find where I was actually going (via the maps app).

My pulse began to race (a condition with which I have very little experience), my skin began to crawl (although it was nice to feel like a newborn baby once again), and my breathing came in great gulps (like as if I was some poor cut-throat trout lying out on a sun-drenched gravel bar awaiting the agonizing rip of a fisherman’s filet-knife).

The blood drained away from the block that sits upon my shoulders and my vision began to blur. Was this the end? Is this how I would make my grand exit – a pile of goo holding onto a steering wheel, frozen in place, uttering those final words that no one would ever hear, “My pho …” (voice trails off – a finis coronat opus)?

After a few seconds, though, the panic in extremis passed. As the rain splashed against the windshield and the wipers continued the rhythm of their swiping, I began to realize that the human race had made it through several millennia without access to cell phones. People had actually traveled across continents and over oceans with little more than a stick in their hands with which to fight off fierce wild beasts or snag a kippered snack for supper.

I eased my grip upon the steering wheel, allowing blood to flow once again, crossing over my knuckles and back into the brain bucket from which it had originally been drained. The world righted itself and I realized everything would be okay.

I reflected on the matter and came to recognize that perhaps I had become too attached to my phone. Where it is supposed to be a tool which serves its owner, it had become the master – the “Lord” Vader – and I had become the student, the Woe-be-gone-Keith-Obie. I had become a prisoner, imprisoned (probably why it’s called a “Cell” phone), but now I was free.

Freedom, of course, is just another word for nothing left to lose, so I continued on my journey, taking care of business (every day), taking care of business (every way), taking care of business (it’s all mine) … oh, sorry. I got carried away in (Bachman Turner) Overdrive …

Anyway, it’s funny how paralyzing fear can be. That momentary lapse into panic (while possibly exaggerated for effect) was very real, but ultimately groundless. The key to breaking that moment of angst was to do some real grounding. Listening to the wipers, watching the splashing of the rain, smelling the soft vapors of the air freshener, and feeling the warm air blowing from the vents restored me to sanity (a major marvel, to be sure).

Whenever I find myself worried about things going on around me, the majority of which are outside my control – like the weather, politics, the rising and falling fortunes of my favorite sports teams, etc. – I find it helpful to put my five senses to work, finding concrete reality in the world around me (versus the noise and static coming from the warp and woof of my imagination).

We have embarked on a whole new year. We’re several weeks into it and it has already lost some of that New Year smell. Still, touching base with those we love and staying grounded one step and one day at a time will work to make it a sane year. Also, don’t text and drive – today’s PSA.

What more could we ask for in this, our valley? Happy Trails!