Slow down: diary of a defensive walker

FLO MARTIN

Back in May, I walked for the Daily Pilot’s Relay for Life team. My

share included Friday night, off and on from around 9 p.m. to

midnight, and then nonstop until 4 a.m.

Most of the folks on the track were going nice and slow, chatting

with friends or with their cell phones, stopping for some

refreshment, or just lost in thought. Saturday morning, I headed back

for the track, ready for more traveling with former Pilot columnist

Lolita Harper.

At Fairview Street and Newport Boulevard, a young teenage driver

hit my car from the rear while I was waiting for the traffic signal

to turn green. He was going way too fast. Crunch went his front

fender, his hood, my rear fender and my neck. I’ve been walking -- to

the chiropractor’s office -- ever since.

The walk to Stan’s office takes me past lots of American flags.

For a month, they hung at half-staff , reminding me of the sadness we

felt at the death of a president who helped “bring down this wall.”

Now, the flags are flying high in front of the auto dealers on Harbor

Boulevard, Carl’s Jr., and the post office on Adams Avenue. The Stars

and Stripes inspires a knot in my throat, even tears.

Tears just like when I choked up big-time every single time

“Lougo” -- Greg Louganis -- received a gold medal. (I was an

interpreter at the USC venue for the two weeks of the Los Angeles

Olympic games.) Tears just like on the Fourth of July, when my church

family sang “God Bless America” and “America, the Beautiful.” As

Americans, we enjoy a wonderful lifestyle, except for one really huge

caveat: we go, go, go all the time. And way too fast.

The Bureau of Transportation website states that in 2001, millions

of highway-related injuries occurred in the United States.

This writer certainly walks into harm’s way every day.

Last week, on my walk west on Adams, an SUV, coming up from

behind, couldn’t wait five seconds to let me cross the driveway, even

though no cars were coming in the other direction. She swerved left

into the Vons parking lot and missed hitting me by just a few feet.

Yikes! The driver mouthed an “I’m sorry,” and I waved back. It’s OK,

honey, just slow down.

At the intersection of Adams and Royal Palm Drive, two cars ran

the red light. Then I watched several cars drive by a white,

two-wheeled gizmo that posted their speed limit -- 35 mph in a

residential zone. Too fast!

Ten minutes later, at the southeast corner of Royal Palm Drive and

Baker Street, I got the green light walk signal. The guy driving a

car sporting a “Disabled” sign in the front window decided to beat me

to the punch and cut me off with a right turn as two cars traveling

west went through the red light. Disabled, indeed! What’s the rush?

In the chiropractor’s office, we chatted about the Tour de France,

especially the respect that the athletes show toward one another as

they travel at high speed up and down the country roads of France.

Stan hit the nail on the head: California drivers need to take time

to show more respect.

My return walk included more drivers cutting me off at the green

light, walk sign, more drivers honking at each other as one slowed

down to negotiate a turn, more drivers running the red. Costa Mesa

City Council members, we need more of those traffic control cameras

and more of those you-are-going-at-this-speed gizmos.

Thank goodness for the other side of the coin. Three Costa Mesa

drivers waited to let me cross the street before going through the

intersection. These three are considerate of us pedestrians and know

that slowing down is “the only way to fly.”

Going slow is good for the heart and good for the soul. Smell the

roses and look at spider webs. On Royal Palm Drive, I marveled at the

sun’s glow on a single strand of spider webbing that spanned the 35

paces (of a size-8 shoe) between a hedge and a nearby tree. Let’s

take note of that little arachnid taking time, nice and slow, to do

his magic.

The final leg of my trip was east on Fair Drive, where I spotted

some green cardboard packaging tossed into the gutter. How ironic --

a HyperEdge-brand digital termination wall assembly. That’s it, in a

nutshell. We over-caffeinated residents of Orange County are usually

in hyper-super-edgy mode, especially when behind the wheel. It’s time

to slow down, time to leave the car in the garage, time to pedal a

bike, time to run for it, or time to join sluggards like me who go on

foot.

Just take it from the Righteous Brothers:

“And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much ... “

* FLO MARTIN is a Costa Mesa resident and faculty member at Cal

State Fullerton.