Hey, happy holidays everyone! Nothing like celebratory times to out oblivious jaywalkers, self-important dog walkers and heedless bicyclists!
Do I have your attention? I hope so because a lack of attentiveness is what gets people in trouble.
I’m not talking only about the driver who checks the Dow Jones at a stoplight until I honk and receive a thank-you wave (that’s how I read it).
No, I’m after the lions and tigers and bears of dangerous behavior. Those who, because they can, do.
Take the jaywalker, an impatient person who crosses a busy street outside the well-delineated crosswalk lines.
This man, to save some steps getting to his car or restaurant reservation, ends up an innocent driver’s nightmare when looming up out of nowhere.
Asking the driver to pay the price – a ticket, a lawsuit, community derision – is like punishing the guy who’s cashing his check for slowing down a bank robbery.
Or take the person who thinks a city street perfect for walking his dog. Driving home from the gym (where I had a hard 10-minute workout), I’m twisting through one of Geneva’s residential backstreets when a golden retriever is strutting its stuff in the middle of the street. What’s more, it’s walking a human with even less good sense.
And here’s the kicker: running alongside the street is a sidewalk.
I want to stop, get out of my car and yell, “Hey, got a riddle for you. Why do people walk on sidewalks instead of in the street? Answer: Because street does not have the word walk in it!”
If I had hit the dog or the man, I’d have paid a high price. Moreover, I’d have felt guilty if I’d hit the dog.
Then there are … wait for it … bikers. No, not motorcyclists who whip by me doing 120 mph – those who don’t wear a helmet until those few final seconds when propelled, airborne, 120 mph after hitting a deer or broken-off exhaust pipe, when they reconsider their decision.
I’m talking about bicyclists who shun thousands of miles of gorgeous bike trails weaving throughout the western suburbs (along rivers, over former railroad lines, through fields, prairies and forests). Instead, dressed like Formula 1 race car drivers advertising 3-in-1 oil, they ride along the edge of narrow, two-lane blacktops with little or no shoulder.
What’s worse, a long parade of riders will test the patience and driving skills of drivers forced to squeeze between the bike brigade and the 18-wheeler or an oversized load carrying a bulldozer as big as a battleship.
All I want for Christmas are folks who think first about the safety of others. So doing will guarantee that jaywalkers, dogs (and their owners) and cross-country bikers will be stayin’ alive – at least till New Year’s Eve.
• Rick Holinger’s poetry and prose have appeared in more than 100 literary journals. He holds a Ph.D. in creative writing from UIC. His poetry book “North of Crivitz” and essay collection “Kangaroo Rabbits and Galvanized Fences” are available at local bookstores, Amazon or richardholinger.net. Contact him at editorial@kcchronicle.com.