Lost in the cave of my mind and I have been missing stuff
It’s a weird feeling to live in a cave.
Not literally, of course, although depending on what winged creatures and mossy vegetation also live inside said cave, I suppose it might feel weird to live inside a for-real life rocky grotto, as well.
No, I mean the post-concussive cave in which I find myself, the imaginary and sometimes surreal bubble I’ve spent most of my waking hours since bonking my head on the underside of my backyard deck.
The post-concussive state I expected would last a few days, and is now dragging into Week 5, preventing me from spending quality time with my laptop, shielding me from important world news and events.
People. My worst fear was realized: the world exploded and I didn’t even know. The Brangelina breakup was HOURS old when I learned about it. HOURS.
Yes, it’s unsettling to live in a cave. To not know what’s going on in the world.
But at least I didn’t have to worry about coughing up my own money to cover medical expenses.
Because when a graceful gal like myself accidentally and inelegantly head-butts a wooden beam, the last thing I should be worrying about is how I’m going to pay for it.
Or maybe that’s just the Canadian in me talking.
I bring this up because I’ve always been as poised as a gorilla at a tea dance. It’s just who I am.
But I’m also a person who spends a lot of time exploring our fair city’s vast trail system and many waterfalls. So much so that I brag about them to my friends and family who live outside Hamilton.
But depending on the weather and the time of year, it can be difficult to see the markers on some trails, it can be difficult to see the trails themselves, and sometimes I wonder at the miracle that is finding my way home without needing to be rescued from the bottom of a pit. Now I learn that the city is considering fining “nuisance” trail and waterfall visitors who have to be rescued by Hamilton emergency services, a service that Coun. Judi Partridge estimates costs taxpayers about $5,000 per rescue, according to a recent story in The Spec.
“As visitors to Hamilton waterfalls increase, so do, apparently, the spills,” reports Teviah Moro.
“There have been at least 22 rope rescue calls this year, which eclipses 2015’s figure of 19 for the entire year.” Yes, that’s troubling, I guess. But Coun. Tom Jackson worries about what a fine like that might do to our image as an outdoor recreation hot spot.
And, he rightly points out, how will the city make the distinction between what is a “nuisance” or “Daredevil” rescue and someone like me who trips over herself on the regular and has to be rescued from the bottom of a cliff?
Yes, I get that idiots do idiotic things and non-idiots often have to pay for it. But I’d like to make a point that seems to be overlooked.
If a person who has no money, falls off the side of a cliff, either accidentally or because they were being a moron, that person might be less inclined to call for help, knowing that he/she might get hit with a huge fine.
A considerable fine might discourage people from attempting stunts, but might also discourage people from trying to get help.
A person who falls, accidentally or otherknowing wise, they will get fined $5,000 if they call for help, might try to climb out themselves, putting themselves in a more precarious situation, causing further injury or even death. Which, I’ve got to say, might also tarnish Hamilton’s reputation as an outdoor recreation hot spot.
Anyway, I’ve spent enough time outside my cave for the day. Going forward, I will One of the grand Hollywood romances came to an end as Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie announced they were divorcing. And Sheryl Nadler missed it! watch my steps very carefully, especially when on the trails.