Pedestrian Problems
So how’re ya now?
Those of you who know me know I’m a big fan of Letterkenny, a purely Canadian, quirky, creative and often crude comedy show about a fictional town in rural Perth County — population 5,000 — and the problems they face.
The list of problems is long. Unrequited love, turf wars between the Hicks and the Skids, challenges for Board Chair at the local Ag Hall, rival hockey teams chasing ‘ships. Even a haunting at the local bar (pickled pig’s foot, not skull).
If you think this sounds a bit like Shakespeare, you’re kinda right.
What I love most about Letterkenny is the wicked wordplay, the lyrical lilt, the bawdy humour, the fantastical scenarios and, seeing as it’s a comedy, a happy ending to every episode — even when that’s a good ole Donnybrook between the Locals and the visiting Citiots at a gay wedding.
To be fair, as pedestrians here in urban London, Ontario about a hundred kilometres south of Listowel — the real Perth County town that inspired Letterkenny — we face a lot of problems too.
Specifically, dog-walkers, sidewalk hogs, drivers who think a stop sign is a suggestion, fully grown adults riding their bike on the sidewalk. And geese.
Getting from point A to B every day can be hell.
They say the first step in solving a problem is naming it. So crack open a Puppers and read along, Letterkenny-style.
I’ll start with the dog walkers. Settle down haters, I want to be clear: I love other people’s dogs. Dogs are not the problem. It’s you, when you don’t stay in your lane.
Let me explain. Where I live, it’s convention to drive on the right side of the road. The sidewalk is like a road for pedestrians. Ergo, it should be no surprise I walk on the right-hand side.
So it bugs me when someone walking in my lane expects me to move. But mostly, it bugs me when they think I should move for their dog.
And don’t get me started on the poop.
Next, there’s the people-sized plug. You know, that person earbuds-in listening to a podcast about being nicer to your neighbours walking ever-so-slowly in the middle of the sidewalk who drifts from side to side like a goalie protecting the crease. They act shocked when you come around them on the left. Even after you holler a cheery, “On your left.”
Or the parent with the double-wide SUV-sized stroller that takes up the whole sidewalk. Sorry, baby on board! No room for you.
Or the good-ole-five-across, a group of people so deep in conversation they’re oblivious to anyone coming or going. We don’t stop for nobody!
What is it about all this sidewalk-hogging that gets my goat?
It’s the aggressive self-centredness that says, “It’s all about ME!”
If you think people are self-centred, try birds. Canada geese DO NOT CARE. They will stand/sleep/lounge right in the middle of the path. They will not move for anyone. They will poop everywhere, making our parks treacherous for toddlers and precarious for pedestrians.
This total disregard gives me a new hate for Canada’s most narcissistic bird. To be honest, I like them best in September, flying in perfect vee formation to Florida, just ahead of the retirees also flocking south.
Which brings me to another bi-pedal problem, literally. Let me set the scene: it’s a sizzling hot summer day. I’m walking along the path (on the right-hand side, natch). Thundering toward me is a massive group of runners spanning the entire width.
Then, out of nowhere, a cyclist with barely a skinny-tire-width to spare roars around the runners, heading straight at me. Our eyes lock.
Moment of panic.
I wave madly and curse loudly.
He looks at me like I’m the problem and swerves, crisis narrowly averted.
As I’ve said, I’m willing to share. But, see above, life is so much easier — and safer — if we all stay on our own side of the path/road/sidewalk.
And speaking of sidewalks, unless you’re eight and learning to ride a bike, stay on the road. It’s kinda the law.
And finally, there are people who could be pedestrians, or are sometimes pedestrians, but mostly drive.
Some of them badly.
Take, for example, the sliding half-stop or the “…but I stopped here last week Bud, why do I need to stop here now?”
I see this move all the time at a stop sign in front of a 30km/hr school zone. Hundreds of parents are dropping kids off at the primary school, gaggles of teens are shuffling to the high school next door, there’s construction everywhere, plus a few of us walking or cycling to work.
Nobody’s paying attention. Everyone’s in a rush. It’s a gongshow.
Which brings me to more bad driving, this time at a quirky four-way stop that’s got all the things NOT going for it: east-west is a popular thoroughfare, north-south makes an awkward jog, and the only other routes downtown are under construction.
Sure, all this chaos makes drivers pause and try to figure it out. They even look at the black lines on the bright yellow sign that show the awkward jog. Then they signal to turn left and drive straight through.
Proof there’s no good signage for a wiggle.
The beautiful thing about being a pedestrian is the shared space. Whether that’s the sidewalk, the bike path or the road, we’re out there in community along with other pedestrians, cyclists, drivers and the geese.
And despite all the problems, dangers and calamities we face, interacting with each other is the best part.
Take Chuck and Cathy, friends I’ve talked about a few times. We met like many walking friends do: you notice each other on the same route every day, progress to a shy smile or wave, then soon it’s “so how’re you now?”, followed by a quick chat. Now we share vegetables and the occasional beer on the back porch.
And Diana, new to our hood, now a regular. During our quick chats as we cross paths en route to work, I’ve learned she’s an amazing volunteer, busy most weekends tree planting or hitting the streets with 519Pursuit, an organization that brings socks, snacks and so much more to people living rough in our community.
Finally, there’s the dog dudes, two older gents with tattoos, earrings and dogs as perfectly weathered as they are. Just today we progressed from a smile and nod to saying “hi”, commenting about the weather (so very Canadian), and me asking if I could meet Dog Dude Number One’s dog.
“Yes, but she can be shy sometimes, and grumpy,” he said.
Me too.
These are the people in my neighbourhood. And like the folks in Letterkenney, we share spaces that are sometimes chaotic, often messy, and frequently tricky to navigate.
So what’s a pedestrian to do?
My friend Jane says let people be people, they will anyway.
I say learn to work with them when you can, and walk around them when you can’t.
Same goes for the geese.
P.S. Sadly, Letterkenny aired its final episode in December 2023. Happily, the team behind it has gone on to create Shoresy. Pitter patter…
