The Old Coot obeys the walking rules.. Published in New York papers on June 6, 2025

 The Old Coot takes a walk.

By Merlin Lessler

 What could be simpler than taking a stroll down the sidewalk? You put on your shoes, tie them tight (good luck with that; modern shoelaces won’t stay tied), step out the door and start walking. Everything is fine: fresh air, stuff to look at and no one in sight. You slip into a walk coma, like the one you experience in a car when you get to your destination and have no memory of the trip. 

 Then you spot someone off in the distance coming your way. It’s amazing how quickly the human brain can determine if a moving creature is coming toward you or going away. It must come from a primitive part of the brain, from a time when it was critical to your survival. It got you prepared to make a “fight or flight” decision. It’s not a survival skill we use much anymore, but it still stirs up a considerable degree of anxiety, at least for an old coot like me. I have to break out of my coma and point myself in a straight line, so I won’t stumble into the intruder’s space.

 I embrace the unwritten sidewalk walking rules, I move to the right (like in a car on a two-lane road) and keep my eyes focused on oncoming traffic, which in this case is a guy walking toward me. The hard part for me, is to stay in a straight line. I tend to meander from side to side. Even when I concentrate.

 So, off I go, hoping to pass by the oncoming walker without incident. That’s when I notice my shoelace has come untied. I go down on one knee and retie it. I get back up, a little lightheaded from rising too fast, take a few steps and find myself in the left hand lane. The guy coming my way shifts to his left too. Now, we’re both in the wrong lane but at least we won’t crash into each other. .

 The gap narrows to fifty feet. I switch lanes; I go right, to obey the rules. He goes right to avoid a crash. I can read the look on his face, “Stop messing with me you old coot!” But he’s over it by the time we pass each other. He nods; I nod, and the crisis comes to an end. I go back into my walk coma, but I’m exhausted from the stress of the encounter. I should turn around and head home, but the coffee shop is just a block away. I go there and start the recovery process. I guess there is no such thing as taking a simple stroll down the sidewalk!

 Complaints? Comments? Leave them at mlessler7@gmail.com

Vintage old coot articles can be viewed at oldcootwisdom.blogspot.com