Being one to never turn down a challenge, I accepted the extension from B and then raised the ante on him. Of course, he fell off the wagon on the fourth or fifth day of Instagram's #photoadayaugust. I had initially chosen my own calendar of random shots to post, but the one he selected was a bit different. (and by a bit, I mean a whole lot) Thus enters the ante raise here: I'll do TWO. Brilliant, I know. I even remember the conversation I had with Mikey about how B thinks he is just so clever; I'll show him who's boss. After realizing B had quit the challenge, I spiraled toward the obvious - he had, once again, duped me. Agh! So infuriating. It's impossible to get the best of this guy, and I seriously don't know how A puts up with all his crap. ;)
Anyhow, a couple days ago I had to come up with a picture for ARROW. The night before I had to post it I was steamrolling through some ideas trying to be clever with it; nothing was coming to mind. I am irritated. The next morning, I shipped Mikey off to another 14-hour day of building the ever so life-enriching establishment in the larger-than-life metropolis of Baton Rouge: L'baurege Casino Hotel. (I will be so relieved when this is over.) After he left, I tidied the room and went off to find a new place to work up a good muscle-building sweat. The amphitheater near the USS KIDD is fun and all, but one can only stay enthused about running concrete stairs for so long. I remembered seeing a small pond under one of the 47 million bridges in this town, so I set out to find it. It was, refreshingly, exactly what I thought it would be: a pond shored up by turn-of-the-century (the twentieth, that is) homes flanked with shudders and street-lamped sidewalks. Encompassing this pond that was filled with families of turtles and a very peculiar species of water birds was a nice little crumbly asphalt track. About a quarter-mile into the hike I saw a worn-out white arrow painted on the ground. Previous visitors had painted lanes and directionsl arrows on this track. (Evidently even travelers on foot need to me reminded they aren't the only ones enjoying the road.)
At first sight of the arrow, I whipped out my trusty iPhone, muted my zydeco-reggae-hip hop-country remix, and went to clicking. After that initial arrow, my fears of never finding an arrow to post on my instagram for the day were completely put to rest. Now I was faced with the overwhelming decision of WHICH to post. My analytical brain went into auto-pilot overdrive and I came up with this: (can't figure out how to post a pic here, but you can find it on my Instagram).
As you can see my photo was abundantly more than necessary for a mere daily post. Evidently, in the words of my sister, 17 arrows on one photo are "too much". I disagree, but whatever. All the arrows posted were seen within 45 minutes, and inside a 3-mile radius. At the beginning of the day I was worried I wouldn't find ANY arrows. Later I was rejecting the arrows and their bossy little attitudes.
How dare some stranger who has never met me, neither have a single clue about where I want to go, command me around by posting some tiny little seemingly insignificant directional symbols?! I know it seems outrageous that little painted signs and stamped shapes asphalt would have such an affect on me, but it was hot, I was sweaty, and it helped me finish the hike being mad about something.
Being raised by a cognitive theologian, a man who ponders EVERYTHING, I began to delve deeper into what was truly frustrating me about the arrows. If nothing else it took my mind off the sweat dripping into my eyeballs. It wasn't that the signs were posted, it was really more of an irritation with them because they would point a certain way, and I'd follow them only to discover I wasn't headed where I thought it would take me or where I really wanted to go. In essence I would spend the majority of my traveling time in town lost as a goose, or since I'm near THE DYNASTY family, lost as a duck. (I heart Si.) This was really more true in my experiences of driving around this town, not so much the walking part. And it's probably impossible for me to count how many times I've busted a U-y in the middle of some boulevard, or had to travel four extra miles on the interstate because of stupid construction and that's just how far it took me to get to a place to change directions. FOUR MILES!! Seriously?
I think I've sufficiently communicated my disapproval for this town and their directional signage, so I'll move on.
My point here is that I had to accept the fact that the arrows weren't intentionally trying to ruin my day. They're just arrows; they probably only really wanted to help. It was my perception that twisted their purpose into something obnoxious. The arrows weren't going to jump out at me and slap me around a little if I went opposite their point. They weren't going to call my whole family and tattle on me. They would never breathe a word to anyone if I ignored their help and went my own way, but the consequences of choosing to go against the flow could be even more inconvenient than driving four miles out of my way: traffic violation ticket, crash into something unseen, or run over a poor little pedestrian. The arrows were simply suggestions, helpful hints, that pointed me to the safest and most convenient direction to travel so I would arrive at my destination, hopefully, in one piece. The point is, once I "cooled my jets" as my dad would say on the whole episode of "These arrows are trying to tell me how to live my life!!", then I saw how helpful they actually were. I appreciate them now, and I'm very thankful no pedestrians were injured through the course of this post.
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