How do you come up with this stuff? Do you Google everything I say?
Google? I don’t believe I’m familiar with that term. Is it anything like “ogle”?
You’re kidding, right? Google. The biggest search engine on the internet.
Internet. That’s the thing with computers, isn’t it?
Yes, the World Wide Web. The Information Superhighway. The Digital Revolution. Any of this sound familiar?
I don’t like to follow passing fads. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing against innovation per se, but I’m not really what you would call an early adopter.
God as a Luddite. Should have seen that coming, I guess, what with the Tower of Babel and all.
Cocky upstarts! You should have seen their faces. It was priceless. Too bad you hadn’t invented your pocket translators yet.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
Techno-Savvy Luddite
I think I may be neurotic. There’s a part of me that loves technology. I’m a classic early adopter, rushing out to buy the latest new electronic gadget as soon as it’s available—whether I need it or not. Cell phones have always been one of my weaknesses—though I did wait for the price drop before I bought an iPhone. Internet, directions, email, photos, weather, text messaging, calendar, and stock quotes on a phone that is also an iPod. It’s a great time to be alive!
But there’s another part of me that worries about the extent to which technology is taking over our lives. Take email for example. It’s a remarkable, time-saving communication tool, but increasingly it takes the place of face-to-face contact—like when I email the co-worker in the office next door rather than just getting up and taking a few steps. Taken too far, this pattern can eventually erode and depersonalize our relationships with others. Email lacks the heart and soul of real voices, gestures, seeing and hearing. And what is true of email is doubly true of texting—trebly of Twitter.
I have to pause for a moment here to answer two obvious and easily raised objections. Yes, I wrote this post on my Sony VAIO notebook computer (light years beyond my first computer—a “Trash 80” I bought in 1984) and uploaded it using my wireless router and broadband internet account. And yes, the whole concept of a blog is meaningless apart from the countless technological advances that make the modern web possible. So, I’m not a very good Luddite—inconsistent, selective, and self-indulgent. But my shortcomings don't automatically invalidate the questions I am raising.
And just so you'll know, I am certainly no Anarcho-primitivist. Even in my most naively nostalgic fantasies about eras I never experienced, I have no desire to part with modern creature comforts. Without modern medicine, I probably wouldn’t still be alive. And even if I were, without corrective eyewear, I would be so myopic as to be little more than a helpless burden on my tribe. Besides, no sane person who has ever benefitted from central air conditioning would want to give it up.
It isn’t technology per se that concerns me, but rather our uncritical adoption of technology in all its forms. Guided by the motto “If we can do it, then we must do it,” we seem hell-bent on selling our souls to technology without once looking back—without ever pausing to reflect on the consequences.
The original Luddites were English textile workers in the early nineteenth century. Following the example of their legendary leader, Captain Ludd, they smashed the framing machines that threatened their jobs. They were unable to halt the flood of mechanization in their time, most of which we now take for granted. Today, the “machines” are more pervasive, the flood of digitalization and virtualization is even more relentless, and the stakes are higher than ever before.
What if we are unknowingly losing something vital to our humanity by sitting for hours each day staring at screens and pecking at keys? Willingly giving it away as the price of admission into a fascinating, seductive, endless, but unreal world? If this is even a remote possibility, since we were created to be "human," I think Jesus would give a rat's ass about this.
DrKAJ
But there’s another part of me that worries about the extent to which technology is taking over our lives. Take email for example. It’s a remarkable, time-saving communication tool, but increasingly it takes the place of face-to-face contact—like when I email the co-worker in the office next door rather than just getting up and taking a few steps. Taken too far, this pattern can eventually erode and depersonalize our relationships with others. Email lacks the heart and soul of real voices, gestures, seeing and hearing. And what is true of email is doubly true of texting—trebly of Twitter.
I have to pause for a moment here to answer two obvious and easily raised objections. Yes, I wrote this post on my Sony VAIO notebook computer (light years beyond my first computer—a “Trash 80” I bought in 1984) and uploaded it using my wireless router and broadband internet account. And yes, the whole concept of a blog is meaningless apart from the countless technological advances that make the modern web possible. So, I’m not a very good Luddite—inconsistent, selective, and self-indulgent. But my shortcomings don't automatically invalidate the questions I am raising.
And just so you'll know, I am certainly no Anarcho-primitivist. Even in my most naively nostalgic fantasies about eras I never experienced, I have no desire to part with modern creature comforts. Without modern medicine, I probably wouldn’t still be alive. And even if I were, without corrective eyewear, I would be so myopic as to be little more than a helpless burden on my tribe. Besides, no sane person who has ever benefitted from central air conditioning would want to give it up.
It isn’t technology per se that concerns me, but rather our uncritical adoption of technology in all its forms. Guided by the motto “If we can do it, then we must do it,” we seem hell-bent on selling our souls to technology without once looking back—without ever pausing to reflect on the consequences.
The original Luddites were English textile workers in the early nineteenth century. Following the example of their legendary leader, Captain Ludd, they smashed the framing machines that threatened their jobs. They were unable to halt the flood of mechanization in their time, most of which we now take for granted. Today, the “machines” are more pervasive, the flood of digitalization and virtualization is even more relentless, and the stakes are higher than ever before.
What if we are unknowingly losing something vital to our humanity by sitting for hours each day staring at screens and pecking at keys? Willingly giving it away as the price of admission into a fascinating, seductive, endless, but unreal world? If this is even a remote possibility, since we were created to be "human," I think Jesus would give a rat's ass about this.
DrKAJ
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Orthoepistopropology
For the etymologically challenged among you, let me start by breaking down the parts. “Ortho” and “episto” are a compound descriptor for those who embrace an epistemological perspective informed by orthodox Christian thought. This group is further refined, defined, and confined to those who prefer their epistemology in the form of propositional statements. In fact, they can often be downright dogmatic about such matters. That leaves only the “logy,” which is what I’m doing now, but also what OEP's love to do ad nauseum.
Finally, since the Facebook comment thread took place so long ago, the vast multitude reading this blog will have forgotten that, in its original context, I used the term derogatorily.
So, orthoepistopropology is definitely something Jesus gives a rat’s ass about . . . but not in a good way.
He taught in parables. He was a radical reinterpreter of tradition. He understood the importance of context in the search for truth. So how is it that some of those who claim his name can so deeply believe and so vehemently assert that the truth about what we can know about God can be reduced to propositional statements? To make matters worse, these same orthoepistopropologists claim that only their statements are the Truth.
That’s right. In OEP World, the one eternal God, creator of all that is—seen and unseen—can be so effectively captured in words that whosoever memorizes those words can, with absolute certainty, stop striving after Truth, having already found all that will ever be needed.
So, am I suggesting that nothing can be known with any certainty? That isn’t my point, but it is probably an implication of my views. What I am suggesting is that certainty is over-rated, and we’d all be healthier and happier if we learned to live with ambiguity. After all, at the end of the day, isn’t how God thinks of us and what God knows about us more important than what we think we know about God?
DrKAJ
Finally, since the Facebook comment thread took place so long ago, the vast multitude reading this blog will have forgotten that, in its original context, I used the term derogatorily.
So, orthoepistopropology is definitely something Jesus gives a rat’s ass about . . . but not in a good way.
He taught in parables. He was a radical reinterpreter of tradition. He understood the importance of context in the search for truth. So how is it that some of those who claim his name can so deeply believe and so vehemently assert that the truth about what we can know about God can be reduced to propositional statements? To make matters worse, these same orthoepistopropologists claim that only their statements are the Truth.
That’s right. In OEP World, the one eternal God, creator of all that is—seen and unseen—can be so effectively captured in words that whosoever memorizes those words can, with absolute certainty, stop striving after Truth, having already found all that will ever be needed.
So, am I suggesting that nothing can be known with any certainty? That isn’t my point, but it is probably an implication of my views. What I am suggesting is that certainty is over-rated, and we’d all be healthier and happier if we learned to live with ambiguity. After all, at the end of the day, isn’t how God thinks of us and what God knows about us more important than what we think we know about God?
DrKAJ
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
I Pledge Allegiance
After hearing all the hoopla over the “I Pledge” video, I went to YouTube and watched it, to see what all the fuss is about. What I found was just a bunch of “celebrities” promising to do more than they have been doing—in small ways and not-so-small ways—to help make our country and our world a better place. Sure, their preferences for where and how to get involved reflect their own political values—so would yours and mine if we were the ones making the video. But honestly, unless predisposed or pre-programmed to do so, who could possibly object to what they are proposing to do? What kind of American is opposed to people with money and influence using some of it for good instead of squandering it all?
But what I’m really disappointed about—though not really surprised by—is the ham-handed hermeneutical handling of this "text" in the blogosphere, on talk radio, and even on Facebook. The "Fox Paraphrase" being so carelessly bandied about never actually appears in the video’s script. Only by conflating two remarks, by two different speakers, at two different points in the video can one come up with the tasty sound bite being quoted almost as frequently as Sarah Palin says “death panels.”
Anthony Kiedis (bicep-kissing RHCP) says, "I pledge to be of service to Barack Obama." Then, at the very end, Demi Moore pledges to “be a servant to our president,” with Ashton Kutcher adding “and to all mankind” (Yes, I bristle over this use of non-inclusive “mankind” where “humanity” could just as easily have been used). Put them all together, they spell “I pledge to serve Barack Obama.” The problem is that, even allowing for the conflation, the negative connotation being suggested for “serve” and “servant” can’t really be supported by what the video actually says.
First, any moderately skilled practitioner of the English language should be able to determine that "to be of service to" and "to serve" do not mean the same thing. When I thank someone, who then replies, “glad to be of service,” I don’t assume that we have just entered into a master/slave arrangement. I don’t assume this person is “pledging” to be my bidding. I understand that the expression is idiomatic and conveys a sense of “serve” or “service” as providing help, not blind, partisan obedience. Second, within the larger context of the video’s theme, announced at the beginning, of offering encouraging support to the President (i.e. “you’re not alone”), this totally non-controversial remark is clearly announcing an intention to be in partnership with, not subservient to. I want someone to explain to me how any other reading of these words is anything more than a willful, adversarial, and ultimately deceptive misconstruing of their plain sense. Doesn’t intellectual honesty dictate that we correctly read, hear, and interpret the words of others—even if we don’t agree with their political views?
Demi’s words undeniably cast her in the role of a “servant,” though not to Barack Obama per se, but rather to “our president.” If we assume that the more general reference was chosen deliberately, her pledge takes on a more universal tone. Members of the Cabinet, White House staff, U.S. Attorneys, and many others in Washington “serve at the pleasure of the President.” We refer to the president as “the leader of the free world,” which implies that some degree of following of this leader is expected. Therefore, the concept of “serving the president” is not inherently illogical, or even unAmerican—merely repugnant to some.
For the sake of argument, I’m going to assume that some of these who find this video so repugnant have bona fide philosophical objections and aren’t merely venting anti-Hollywood venom, or worse yet, a rabid, racist partisanship. For some of these, I believe it is the concept of “citizen” that, when coupled with notions of inherent rights and freedoms, causes them to reject the idea of being a servant to the president. If we can agree on a working definition of a citizen as “a person owing allegiance to and entitled to the protection of a sovereign state,” especially as distinguished from a subject, who owes “allegiance to a personal sovereign such as a monarch” (both definitions are from the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary), we can see in both cases a reciprocity of obligation. You may be inclined to reject the definition I have chosen, preferring to think of citizenship more as a quid pro quo arrangement: citizens give allegiance and get protection in return. Or perhaps even this configuration: the State gives protection to its citizens, so they offer it their allegiance in return . . . at least for as long as they agree with the State’s leaders and those leaders don’t try to speak words of encouragement to their children without parental consent.
I am a staunch proponent of the social contract theory of government. I believe that legitimate governments derive their authority from the consent of the governed. But I also believe that this consent is given collectively, not individually. I can’t “opt out” just because I didn’t vote for or don’t agree with the current, duly elected leaders. Even as a free citizen, I owe my allegiance to my country, and I express that allegiance in a variety of ways, both literal and figurative. I was raised in a time when “traditional American values” included extending the same allegiance to the symbols of the country that was owed to the country itself, and the two most prominent, concrete symbols were the American flag and the Office of the President. Sometimes these acts of allegiance were commonplace: don’t let the flag touch the ground and stand up when the president enters the room. But others were extraordinary, as free citizens willingly chose to die to protect both the flag and the president. The “United States of America” is an abstraction and, therefore, not easily “served” apart from its visible representations.
How can an American citizen feel demeaned by the thought of being of service to, or even the servant of, the President of the United States—whether that president is George W. Bush or Barack Obama?
When did we become so petty and vicious and arrogant and childish and short-sighted in our partisanship?
I know that God is neither a Republican nor a Democrat. Not a Libertarian either. And as far as I know, God did not intervene in the election of either George Bush or Barak Obama. Nations come and nations go, civilizations rise and fall, and the world goes on. But I do think Jesus gives a rat’s ass about what we are doing to our country and to our fellow Americans.
DrKAJ
But what I’m really disappointed about—though not really surprised by—is the ham-handed hermeneutical handling of this "text" in the blogosphere, on talk radio, and even on Facebook. The "Fox Paraphrase" being so carelessly bandied about never actually appears in the video’s script. Only by conflating two remarks, by two different speakers, at two different points in the video can one come up with the tasty sound bite being quoted almost as frequently as Sarah Palin says “death panels.”
Anthony Kiedis (bicep-kissing RHCP) says, "I pledge to be of service to Barack Obama." Then, at the very end, Demi Moore pledges to “be a servant to our president,” with Ashton Kutcher adding “and to all mankind” (Yes, I bristle over this use of non-inclusive “mankind” where “humanity” could just as easily have been used). Put them all together, they spell “I pledge to serve Barack Obama.” The problem is that, even allowing for the conflation, the negative connotation being suggested for “serve” and “servant” can’t really be supported by what the video actually says.
First, any moderately skilled practitioner of the English language should be able to determine that "to be of service to" and "to serve" do not mean the same thing. When I thank someone, who then replies, “glad to be of service,” I don’t assume that we have just entered into a master/slave arrangement. I don’t assume this person is “pledging” to be my bidding. I understand that the expression is idiomatic and conveys a sense of “serve” or “service” as providing help, not blind, partisan obedience. Second, within the larger context of the video’s theme, announced at the beginning, of offering encouraging support to the President (i.e. “you’re not alone”), this totally non-controversial remark is clearly announcing an intention to be in partnership with, not subservient to. I want someone to explain to me how any other reading of these words is anything more than a willful, adversarial, and ultimately deceptive misconstruing of their plain sense. Doesn’t intellectual honesty dictate that we correctly read, hear, and interpret the words of others—even if we don’t agree with their political views?
Demi’s words undeniably cast her in the role of a “servant,” though not to Barack Obama per se, but rather to “our president.” If we assume that the more general reference was chosen deliberately, her pledge takes on a more universal tone. Members of the Cabinet, White House staff, U.S. Attorneys, and many others in Washington “serve at the pleasure of the President.” We refer to the president as “the leader of the free world,” which implies that some degree of following of this leader is expected. Therefore, the concept of “serving the president” is not inherently illogical, or even unAmerican—merely repugnant to some.
For the sake of argument, I’m going to assume that some of these who find this video so repugnant have bona fide philosophical objections and aren’t merely venting anti-Hollywood venom, or worse yet, a rabid, racist partisanship. For some of these, I believe it is the concept of “citizen” that, when coupled with notions of inherent rights and freedoms, causes them to reject the idea of being a servant to the president. If we can agree on a working definition of a citizen as “a person owing allegiance to and entitled to the protection of a sovereign state,” especially as distinguished from a subject, who owes “allegiance to a personal sovereign such as a monarch” (both definitions are from the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary), we can see in both cases a reciprocity of obligation. You may be inclined to reject the definition I have chosen, preferring to think of citizenship more as a quid pro quo arrangement: citizens give allegiance and get protection in return. Or perhaps even this configuration: the State gives protection to its citizens, so they offer it their allegiance in return . . . at least for as long as they agree with the State’s leaders and those leaders don’t try to speak words of encouragement to their children without parental consent.
I am a staunch proponent of the social contract theory of government. I believe that legitimate governments derive their authority from the consent of the governed. But I also believe that this consent is given collectively, not individually. I can’t “opt out” just because I didn’t vote for or don’t agree with the current, duly elected leaders. Even as a free citizen, I owe my allegiance to my country, and I express that allegiance in a variety of ways, both literal and figurative. I was raised in a time when “traditional American values” included extending the same allegiance to the symbols of the country that was owed to the country itself, and the two most prominent, concrete symbols were the American flag and the Office of the President. Sometimes these acts of allegiance were commonplace: don’t let the flag touch the ground and stand up when the president enters the room. But others were extraordinary, as free citizens willingly chose to die to protect both the flag and the president. The “United States of America” is an abstraction and, therefore, not easily “served” apart from its visible representations.
How can an American citizen feel demeaned by the thought of being of service to, or even the servant of, the President of the United States—whether that president is George W. Bush or Barack Obama?
When did we become so petty and vicious and arrogant and childish and short-sighted in our partisanship?
I know that God is neither a Republican nor a Democrat. Not a Libertarian either. And as far as I know, God did not intervene in the election of either George Bush or Barak Obama. Nations come and nations go, civilizations rise and fall, and the world goes on. But I do think Jesus gives a rat’s ass about what we are doing to our country and to our fellow Americans.
DrKAJ
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Old Monarch, Two Years Later
When I came to Chaffee County for the first time in August 2007, the day I went to Old Monarch Pass was the high point of the trip (see entry entitled "God's Grandeur" for one account of it). I encountered God on that mountaintop in a way I never had before. I felt God "speak" to me (not audibly, or via any other sensory mode, but perceptibly) about several issues that were weighing heavily on my heart.I was so affected by it all, I even piled up some stones a la Jacob and announced aloud, "Surely the Lord was in this place."
As I made my descent (I had climbed to the highest point accessible above the pass), I was exhilarated and inspired. Over the next hour or two, as I drove toward Gunnison, I laid out the plan for a work of theological fiction I plan to write, entitled God Explains It All. Unfortunately, I didn't have a way to record my thoughts, so it wasn't until hours later, over dinner in Salida, that I wrote out pages of notes in longhand on the entire experience. It was a watershed event.
So, naturally, returning to Chaffee County two years later, I had to revisit the exact spot at the top of Old Monarch Pass to see what God had been up to since I left.
At first, I thought nothing had changed. The climb was still exhausting, the view was still spectacular, and the rock formation at the top was exactly the same. (I tried to recreate the same pose in my self portrait, but the camera wouldn't cooperate.) But then it dawned on me that these things had not changed because they live in what Keats called "slow time." Whatever changes they go through are so slight and subtle as to be imperceptible to we finite mortals.Then, I realized that even though the same species of wildflowers and insects were present, the actual individuals with whom I had shared this spot two years earlier had completed a lifetime and were gone. Returned to the earth and reborn in new forms.
Finally, I thought about how much I had changed. My "Bethel" moment in 2007 had been only the first in a series of watershed events. My father died before 2007 was over. I almost became the president of another seminary while my father was dying but found out I wasn't chosen the week after he died. Then I took an ambulance ride to the ER at 9:42 pm on February 1, 2008 with chest pains and spent 16 hours on a gurney. My son moved to another state and took a piece of me with him. My mother moved into assisted living and gave Barbara and me her house, which we remodeled and moved into last month.
All of these thoughts flooded my mind while I was trying to get the camera to sit on a rock for the self portrait, but the wind kept blowing it off. The wind turned bitterly cold, and I saw a large, angry looking, dark blue cloud coming up behind me. That's when it occurred to me that I was the highest point for miles. So I scurried down the peak back to my car, trying not to fall and break something.
The first time, a sense of God's presence filled me to overflowing and lasted for hours. This time, all I felt was God's displeasure. (And no, I'm not projecting God into the thundercloud or suggesting that God used it to chase me down off the mountain.)
As I got into my car to drive back down into the valley, I apologized to God for trying to script a holy moment. "The wind blows where it will."
DrKAJ
Pick a Pass and Start Climbing
I drove over Independence Pass Monday, and it was the first time I have felt genuinely uncomfortable driving in the mountains. The only way to describe the road is narrow, crooked, and steep. I saw numerous places where the actual road surface had fallen away. The white stripe was missing and there was no guard rail. But, at the top, it was unspeakably beautiful. Exquisitely delicate wildflowers bravely staking their claim in the harsh wind and blinding sun, serving no purpose beyond delighting their Maker.This road is a testimony to human ingenuity and tenacity, to our tireless quest to reconnect with our estranged planet, but mostly to an insatiable appetite to get to whatever precious commodity de jour is hidden away in Aspen. Been there. Done that. T-shirts were too expensive.
Two mountain passes. Similar heights. Only miles apart as the eagle flies. Two different worlds. One soothing and reassuring, the other terrifying. One easily accessible to drivers of almost every level of expertise and vehicle. The other reserved for those brave enough and sufficiently prepared to make the journey, and exacting a price from them for their audacity.
And yet, both yield their blessings and rewards to those who come.
It occurs to me that people see God in this way.
For some, God is severe and demanding, relentlessly driving us to greater depths of humility, greater heights of holiness, or both. A God of rules and restrictions who can be approached only through monumental effort and at great risk. A God who expects more from us than we can ever deliver.
Others see God as easy to approach, regardless of our circumstances. Warm and inviting and nurturing, welcoming all. The road is broad and smooth, and God even provides roadside assistance for those who break down along the way. A God of love and acceptance who requires only that we desire to come and be part of the family. A God who is never disappointed with our many shortcomings and outright failings.
And yet, both yield their blessings and rewards to those who come.
Acknowledging that all theology is metaphor, and that anthropomorphic metaphors are among our favorites, surely God is both of these . . . and so much more.
Would Jesus GARA about this? I think so. Not whether or not we "get it right." That's not even one of the options. Only that we embark on the journey.
Ciao for now,
DrKAJ
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Leader of the Pack
This is actually yesterday's post, but I was too tired last night to drive into town to upload it. I'll do better tonight.
At first glance, this may look like a take-off on the hilarious toll booth scene in Blazing Saddles, but trust me, it is for real.
Guanella Pass is undergoing a great deal of construction to repair winter damage. In three places, so much of the roadbed is gone there is room for only one lane of traffic at a time. Not an uncommon scene, but most of the time, when I come across such a scenario, there are people monitoring driver compliance--outfitted with dayglo orange safety vests and armed with a plastic flag on a stick (which they wave in a manner that makes sense only to them). But this was an honor system--just a red light sitting there, daring you to breach the DMZ.
Maybe instead of Blazing Saddles (where the toll booth was manned), this is really a candid camera setup. How long will drivers sit in a line at a red light without any confirmation that there are as-yet-unseen cars heading toward them with no room for evasive action? Apparently, previous experience has taught the concocters of this cruel mind game that 10 minutes is the most an average, law-abiding driver can wait. And so, after 10 minutes, during which a few cars have indeed come skidding around the downhill curve (taking a total of about 30 seconds) the light changes to green.
Now, go back and look closely at the picture. Check out the truck's license plate. Texas. And then ask yourself, "Who drives from Texas to north central Colorado in a work truck like that?"
I was second in line, right behind the truck from Texas, my own origin disguised by the Colorado plates on my rental. I don't know who the driver was, but he struggled with the red light. I had followed him up from town, so I knew he was traveling with another car. When we came upon the red light, they both stopped, but then the car went on. Color blind? Illiterate? Inventive? (The road curved off to the right just after the traffic light, so maybe it was a variation on right-turn-on-red. After all, there was no cross traffic.) Stubborn scofflaw? Daredevil? I will never know. But I had time to study the truck driver's reaction.
At first, he just sat where he was, engine running . . . roughly. Then, he put it in drive and lurched forward. I thought he was following suit and following his buddy, but then he stopped and put it back in park again. Maybe he was looking for the white stripe that tells you where to stop for a red light. If this was the case, he was a perfectionist, because he pulled up two more times before finally coming to rest where you see him in the picture.
No bold nonconformist myself, I started my car again and pulled up to make the gap between us "appropriate." Didn't want to encourage anyone in line behind us to swing out and try to swoop in between us. Then I turned off my engine, rolled down all the windows, hopped out to take the picture, then settled down to relax and wait.
Sure enough, the light finally turned green, and our pack headed out together up the mountain. Just where it widened back out to two lanes again, there was the truck driver's buddy, parked on the side of the road, waiting for him. Apparently, he had survived his reckless trek unharmed. Just up the road, they pulled off together into a campground (hence the cooler in the back of the truck?), making me the leader of our pack.
I knew there were two more red lights in front of us, so I solemnly resolved to myself to stick the landing on both of them on the first try . . . because I suspect that Jesus may just GARA about such things.
DrKAJ
Guanella Pass is undergoing a great deal of construction to repair winter damage. In three places, so much of the roadbed is gone there is room for only one lane of traffic at a time. Not an uncommon scene, but most of the time, when I come across such a scenario, there are people monitoring driver compliance--outfitted with dayglo orange safety vests and armed with a plastic flag on a stick (which they wave in a manner that makes sense only to them). But this was an honor system--just a red light sitting there, daring you to breach the DMZ.
Maybe instead of Blazing Saddles (where the toll booth was manned), this is really a candid camera setup. How long will drivers sit in a line at a red light without any confirmation that there are as-yet-unseen cars heading toward them with no room for evasive action? Apparently, previous experience has taught the concocters of this cruel mind game that 10 minutes is the most an average, law-abiding driver can wait. And so, after 10 minutes, during which a few cars have indeed come skidding around the downhill curve (taking a total of about 30 seconds) the light changes to green.
Now, go back and look closely at the picture. Check out the truck's license plate. Texas. And then ask yourself, "Who drives from Texas to north central Colorado in a work truck like that?"
I was second in line, right behind the truck from Texas, my own origin disguised by the Colorado plates on my rental. I don't know who the driver was, but he struggled with the red light. I had followed him up from town, so I knew he was traveling with another car. When we came upon the red light, they both stopped, but then the car went on. Color blind? Illiterate? Inventive? (The road curved off to the right just after the traffic light, so maybe it was a variation on right-turn-on-red. After all, there was no cross traffic.) Stubborn scofflaw? Daredevil? I will never know. But I had time to study the truck driver's reaction.
At first, he just sat where he was, engine running . . . roughly. Then, he put it in drive and lurched forward. I thought he was following suit and following his buddy, but then he stopped and put it back in park again. Maybe he was looking for the white stripe that tells you where to stop for a red light. If this was the case, he was a perfectionist, because he pulled up two more times before finally coming to rest where you see him in the picture.
No bold nonconformist myself, I started my car again and pulled up to make the gap between us "appropriate." Didn't want to encourage anyone in line behind us to swing out and try to swoop in between us. Then I turned off my engine, rolled down all the windows, hopped out to take the picture, then settled down to relax and wait.
Sure enough, the light finally turned green, and our pack headed out together up the mountain. Just where it widened back out to two lanes again, there was the truck driver's buddy, parked on the side of the road, waiting for him. Apparently, he had survived his reckless trek unharmed. Just up the road, they pulled off together into a campground (hence the cooler in the back of the truck?), making me the leader of our pack.
I knew there were two more red lights in front of us, so I solemnly resolved to myself to stick the landing on both of them on the first try . . . because I suspect that Jesus may just GARA about such things.
DrKAJ
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