When you’re hit by a baseball…

…it usually hurts.

It don’t really matter who you are. The brief impact, the sudden abrasion against your skin, the force of a round object against you – all of these events are unwanted experiences for your body. And yet, if you play baseball, you’re bound to be hit by a ball sooner or later. Whether it be at home plate, in the field, or in the bleachers – there’s a good chance you’ll be hit at some point. And when you do get plunked, it won’t be enjoyable.

When we increase the amount of times we do something, we also increase the possibility that something bad will occur. Take dating, for example. The more you go out on dates and the more people you decide spend time with, the more liable you will be to have your heart trampled upon. The same can be applied to driving. Drive a car long enough and you’ll probably witness a few crashes or heaven forbid, be involved in a crash.

If you broke this concept down a little further, you may refer to this phenomenon as “probability”. Or rather, the likelihood that an event will eventually take place. Anyone who has ever driven a car knows that there’s an inherent chance that something bad might happen while they’re driving. The engine stalls, tire goes flat, and so on, but we rarely focus our energies on the one-in-a-million situation. We fix our eyes on the objective instead. “I need to get groceries”; “I need to pick up my kid from school”, among others. The goal outweighs any possible fear we may possess.

So why am I drabbling on about this stuff? Well, I got hit by a pitch this weekend and man, it hurt. I won’t lie about it. A 75+ mph fastball plunked me right in my side. If my kidneys were positioned on the outside of my body, they would have exploded. Thankfully, they are not but you get the idea.

The ironic thing about all this is how I had just been thinking that I hadn’t been hit by a pitch for a while. Honestly, it’s been about three solid years since the last time I’ve been hit. And for a guy in his late 20s who still plays on weekends, that’s not bad odds. Historically, I get out of the way pretty well, but on Sunday I just didn’t. So as I took my hit to the side, grimaced and threw my bat down, I couldn’t help but think of my earlier thoughts that morning.

You know, I don’t think I’ve been hit by a pitch in a while. That’s not bad.

And from that moment on, I was doomed. I’m sure most people can relate to this. The instance we recognize a glitch in our universe, that quick observation of our own extended bliss; we send an open invite to agony so it can return to our doorstep.

But here’s the reality – agony returned because I got lax. I was comfortable with my circumstances. Rather than keep my guard up, I was content to “ride my good fortune out”. Like I was somehow immune to being hit by a ball again. If I were really watching carefully, on guard and ready for anything, I may have dodged that ball and this blog post would have never happened. But on the flip side of that thinking, I could have reflected upon how I’ve kept my mind sharp. Not being content to let a baseball smash into me after so many years of avoiding a wild throw or errant pitch.

I didn’t though (as you know). I got comfortable. Such is the way with most people. However, I find myself not wanting to be like most people. I’d like to think of myself as someone who challenges himself daily. Moment to moment, second to second, with the understanding that I can change things as they are happening without having to sit idly by. Because if I sit idly, then I’m sure to be caught in that familiar “Hey, that hasn’t for a while, has it?” And we all know what comes next when you have one of those silent epiphanies….

You get hit by a baseball.

What’s the deal with drivers these days?

Maybe it’s just me, but hey, what’s the deal? Seriously. It seems as though every time I hit the road, I’m encountered by one of three things:

1) Tailgating (driving too closely behind)
2) Speeding (driving too fast)
3) Slow Drivers (this one is self explanatory)

It’s as if everyone I meet out there has a personal vendetta against me and my car. I’m not really sure why – I just know. Whether I’m sitting at a stoplight, driving on the highway or just leaving my garage, I can feel a certain disturbance in the Force that says, “watch out”. Just the other day I was waiting at a four-way light when I noticed a car behind me come streaking up. The person stopped abruptly behind me, within inches of my back bumper, but instead of moving backward, this person crept up to me even closer! What’s up with that?! This person was so close to my backside I couldn’t even see their headlights any longer. When that happens, you know that the distance between you and the front of their car is mere fractions of an inch.

But why do that? I mean, the light will eventually turn green. We are both aware of this (as fellow operators of motor vehicles) and we are both in the knowing that when that light turns green, I will proceed forward. So why the lack of personal space? Better yet, why the need to be so close to my hind end? But what’s even better (if you can sense my sarcasm) is the reaction I get after I start my car when the light changes – anger. Not from me, but from the person in back who is apparently upset that I didn’t hit the gas like a bat out of hell when the green signal came on.

Ok, I’m not a violent or angry person by nature, but come on. Really? Unless you’ve got a pregnant wife about to go through labor in your backseat, I don’t see the reason for such a response. Moreover, if I can see that you’re ticked off at me for being “slow”, then chances are I will continue my “slow” behavior throughout the duration of time we spend together on the road.

It’s times like these that really test my patience. Not so much with the other person; just my own. I know I shoudln’t be looking over my shoulder constantly or be overly concerned with the person trailing me a mere six inches away (at 60 mph, no less), but for whatever reason, I can’t always help myself. I wish I could. And I’m sure so many others are in the same boat.

By some strange circumstance, driving a car has become a very personal experience for people. Our car – its make, model, etc. – are all reflections of ourselves. But even more so, they’re like statements to all who observe us. How much money we make (or are willing to spend), what we like to drive (gas-guzzling giant or mini-mileage machine), and where we are in life (single with a sports car or married with three kids and a minivan). It’s the very reason cops have a tendency to pull bright, red sports cars over more than any other vehicle. Red is a color of attraction and additionally, it fits the stereotype of someone trying to make a statement. Sorry all you red-car drivers – it’s just statistics talking.

But there you have it. Driving is as personal as walking down the street and seeing a stranger on the sidewalk. You exchange glances, maybe nod the head, and then you go about your business. Nothing crazy, just a simple gesture before you go about your day. The only difference is that a car places about a ton of metal and plastic between you and another human being. And because of that fact, we think we can push the boundaries of personal space. We press up real close, become agitated over another’s slower-than-snail’s pace behind the wheel, and we blurt out expletives best left for a Tarentino movie. Forget those bumper stickers that say “Baby on board” or “How’s my driving?” – nobody cares about that anymore. They only care about where they’re headed and how long it’ll take them to get there. That’s about it.

Maybe we should all go back to riding trains again? Or mandate that everyone take the bus to work? I’m sure this would give plenty of people a job considering the amount of buses and new trains we’d need to be operated. That’s a plus, right? And maybe by way of making people share space with others just down the street from them, they might actually get to know who lives near them. This is, of course, a very unrealistic idea – especially considering how people are less apt to want to spend time with other people nowadays. But hey, I’m just spitballin’ ideas here.

In the good ol’ days of driving, cars were as much a novelty as they were a means of transportation. Owning a car was a sign of status. If you could afford a clunker that went a little over 30 mph, then you were a high roller. And when the auto industry started upping the ante on horsepower, cars became a science experiment. How fast can we make them? How sleek can they be without being too sleek? These questions were raised and we answered each one with a “yes, we can make them faster and yes, we will make them sleeker”. Then, at some point, cars stopped being a sign of status. And they stopped being a neat science experiment.

Naturally, I’m talking about today’s cars.

With a decent enough credit score and a monthly payment that can be paid off in 30 years, Joe Smith down the street can afford a $25,000 sports car just like anybody else. And what’s more, that car will have enough giddy up to compete with just about every other car on the road.

So where’s the fun in that? Suddenly, I’m upset by this debacle. I thought we were supposed to have some diversity out there among the masses, weren’t we? And speaking of diverse selection, have you seen the 2013 models vs. their 2012 counterparts? Aside from a few changes in headlights, I don’t see much difference. So why would I buy the 2013 model if the 2012 is pretty much the same thing? Bleh, now I’m just irritated.

Well, wait a second here. I find myself unusually perturbed right now. Why is that? Am I ticked off at cars in general? Is that my issue? Is the guy behind me not really angry with my driving, he’s merely upset that his car is as generic as mine? Hmm. Could be, I suppose. Perhaps that’s our problem nowadays – everything is too much the same. Or maybe our isolation in the car keeps us from remembering that yes, there are actual people driving and sharing the road with us out there. They’re not robots or some scourge of the Earth meant to make us late to that meeting we didn’t properly prepare for. No, these are actual people. And if we are never to know these people, then why bother with caring about who’s behind the wheel in the first place? I suppose that may make the most sense of out anything in this rant.

Or maybe not. I guess that’s just another thing to ponder as you’re out traversing the highways. But if you could (and I know some people will do the opposite just to spite me), please try to stay back a few feet if you can. I promise you that the light will turn green, I will begin moving forward, and wherever it is that you are going – I promise that it’ll still be there when you get there.

And if it isn’t there, then I’m sorry. I have no other words than to take the bus if you’re so worried about being on time. Maybe you’ll meet someone interesting on the way there. Just saying.