Large Fierce Mammal

Proximity negates skill. A lesson the blade brings into sharp focus, and carries forward into all areas of endeavour.

Welcome back dear reader, and may I introduce you to this fourth chapter of In Ferro Veritas!

This summer in Nova Scotia has seen an extreme escalation in highway accidents and fatalities therefrom. Along with this has come a constantly fizzling, crackling background noise of daily close calls, and it is a rarity these days for me to complete a day on the road without observing dangerous operation of motor vehicles, if not the aftermath of actual accidents. Sometimes not even on the road – last week I pulled into the parking lot of our bank, and from the time I actually entered it to the point where I turned off my engine after parking (a total elapsed time of no more than 45 seconds), I found it necessary to sound my horn three times to avoid being run into by vehicles driven by people who were driving toward me while looking elsewhere. On the last two, I was actually stopped in my parking space.

Disturbingly, every road trip so far this summer has included moments in which we ourselves may have been a part of the lethal equation if not for constant maintenance of situational awareness, distance and speed control, and absolute refusal to get caught up in someone else’s ego as expressed through his vehicle. Who knew an “ego trip” was an actual trip? In short, it appears the rules of driving in Quebec have been exported to Nova Scotia. Besides venting though, there is a point to telling you all this, and that is to serve as intro to an anecdote that will segue into today’s topic.

Last week, Mrs. LFM and I were driving the roughly hour long return trip from Halifax, nearly all of which is highway driving. It was evening so traffic was light, and it took until we were traversing the Town of Bridgewater, less than five minutes from home, when the inevitable happened. Driving down the main drag, we observed a car approaching from a side street to our right. It stopped at the stop sign, the driver looked only to his right (we were approaching from his left), and then straight ahead as he proceeded to start a left turn that would have taken him directly across our path. Would have, that is, if not for my afore mentioned constant maintenance of situational awareness, combined with distance and speed control. That and my finely tuned bullshit detector. He slammed on his brakes to the sound of my horn singing his praises, and as his head whipped around he made the remarkable discovery of the two of us glaring at him through the windshield of our stopped car from a distance of about 20 feet. We drove around him and continued home without further incident, but this situation highlights something that has long been known but too often forgotten – no matter how close in distance or time you may be to your desired goal, risk of encountering a threat to health and safety is not thereby diminished.

Losing sight of this Great Truth explains why traffic accidents often happen close to home, bomber crews in WW2 failed to spot the enemy fighter that shot them down within sight of a friendly coast, military attacks occur just before a change of watch when those going off duty are anticipating their down time and the ones replacing them are still rubbing sleep from their eyes, and people find themselves the target of attack walking from their car to their own door.

Another point my anecdote illustrates is one of the so called “Rules for Going to a Gunfight”, the identity of the author of which seems lost in antiquity; or at least lost to the internet which, alas, seems to have amounted to the same thing:

“Proximity negates skill. Distance is your friend.”

This is as true in the operation of any vehicle as it is in combat with any weapon. As a former pilot, I was taught the two most useless things in aviation were altitude above me and runway behind me. In short, the closer you come to a moment of Truth, the fewer your options.

This is not new news. Coming all the way from 1594, I invite you to attend the sage words of Thomas Churchyard as they appear in the Epistle Dedicatorie to Giacomo di Grassi’s True Arte of Defence:

“… the danger is death if ignorant people procure a combate.”

Or drive a car, fly an airplane, get in a fight, or go otherwise cluelessly abroad in the land.

Driving, running, walking, sitting on a bus, in a public park, or in the woods; clarity of perception is paramount in all endeavours that intrinsically carry the risk of meeting with  opposition to our getting home safe and whole. Keep your mind where your body is. Get your head out of where you’d rather be, who you’d rather be with, where you’re going, and what you’ll do when you get there. Head up and out of that phone! Ears pricked and unobstructed by ear buds! Be here and now. The journey really is the point from beginning to end if you ever expect to achieve your destination.

The mind truly is the paramount weapon in warding off all harms. What happens to be in the hand – be it hilt or steering wheel – is secondary.