Why Did the Raccoon Cross the Road?

This will probably come off as self-serving and more than a little cheesy.

*First, a bit of exposition.

I am, and have been for the past 3 to 4 years, severely depressed. My greatest strength and my greatest weakness is my memory, the sharpness of my intellect. My once boundless optimism (I am, admittedly, a dreamer and a hopeless romantic) has begun to be replaced by a bitter, jaded, cynicism. My hatred for this place, for this greedy, selfish, mindless society is only outweighed by my all-encompassing self-loathing. All of my greatest successes and failures haunt my waking dreams. The opposite happens in my dreams.

Honestly, I hate to dream. Well, to be fair, it's not the dreaming that I hate. It's the waking up. This is one of the many reasons that Inception was a film I was particularly interested in (and by "interested in," I mean, "marking the fuck out for"). I went to see the midnight showing at a theater not too far from my house, which sits outside city limits in what is the beginning of a vast expanse of farmland. Around an hour before I was to leave, my two beagles decided to run off into the night and explore. Beagles have a habit of doing this, once they find an interesting smell. If it happens during the day, we don't often worry, because they always come back. This is different at night, when Coyotes are on the prowl, Coyotes which would quite easily rip my dogs to shreds. Especially the fat one, the one who was still missing when I left (she came back later that night, while I was at the movie).

In a soon to be explained coincidence, my grandmother (who lives farther in city,) had been having problems with a family of Raccoons stealing her cat's food. My uncle and step-father caught a few, who soon died from the heat the next day. I wondered if I should feel pity for what must have been a terrible death, or if I should just disregard it. Raccoons are particularly mean creatures.

*Exposition over

Anyways, after seeing Inception (one of the most mentally and emotionally involving films I have ever seen in my entire life, and an unmitigated masterpiece,) I drove back home, along some dark, lonely roads (every road is dark and lonely at 3 in the morning). While listening to the final song on Radiohead's "Kid A" (Motion Picture Soundtrack) I saw a family of Raccoons crossing the road directly under a large streetlamp. I slowed down a little to make sure I didn't hit them, and felt a little sorrier for the three that had died the day before. Then I noticed what must have been the Father waiting on the far side of the road in my rear-view mirror. My car had scared it from crossing the road. I drove away.

Less than 10 seconds later, another car passed my going the other way. I off-handedly wondered if that car would hit the raccoon. For some reason this stuck with me, and a couple minutes later I turned around and headed back. When I got back, the raccoon was still sitting where I had left him, peeking around to see if he could cross. He saw my car and darted back. So I stopped, and shut my car off. In the middle of a relatively busy road in the dark. The Raccoon poked his head out and looked at me. Not at my car, but at me. After a few seconds, he worked up the courage to cross. It took him almost a minute (thinking back, I probably almost hit him the first time.) Right as he made it to the other side, I started my car. He freaked out and turned around to escape to the relative safety of the other side.

Instead of running around my car, he ran right up to my passenger's side door, stopped, looked at car, judged it no threat, and finished crossing to the other side. Then he left, without looking back. This is where my choice of music comes into play. As I wondered if he found his family, Thom Yorke's voice rang out with "I think you're crazy," which is something I often wonder. Am I crazy for trying to think every day? For caring more about my thoughts, my memories, my philosophies, than my wealth? Am I the crazy one, or is it everyone else?

Maybe this is what some people call a religious experience. A sign from a higher power communicating that everything will work out. Maybe. It has all the hallmarks (pun intended). I don't know. All I know is that for the first time in years, I felt good about something I had done. Not just satisfied, but good. Like I had done something most other people wouldn't have, and it didn't cause me to question my sanity. That's all religion is, in my opinion. An escape from the confines of the mind. If there's anything Inception taught me, it's that the mind will see what it wants to see. There is no more powerful parasite than an idea.

When I got home, right as I got out of my car, a Coyote howled in the distance. Understandably I hurried inside. Coyotes are particularly mean creatures. After getting inside, I realized that I had left my phone in the car. I decided not to go out and get it. I don't know if I'm ready to face that Coyote yet.

All I know is that for a few minutes on July 16th, 2010, Thom Yorke, Christopher Nolan and Raccoon saved my life.

A single idea from a human mind can build cities.-
Cosmis