New Worlds Emerge

I came around a curve on the Occidental College campus on Saturday morning and made a new acquaintance.

It was early, just before sunrise, and I was doing my morning walk from my uncle’s home in Los Angeles where I had been staying for the last week.

This would probably be a good time to tell you that I had an absolute blast.

I got to hang with my uncle and his wife, had lunch with one of my cousins who was in town for a day, hit such hot spots as Little Tokyo and the Farmers Market, and I finally had an in-person meeting with the fabulous Mark Brown, a writer I’ve known for the last 10 years or so solely through blogging and Facebook.

And I also had plenty of time to lay on my keester and do absolutely nothing.

Not bad, huh? Especially in light of all that emotional hullabaloo that I’m subjected myself to just a week ago.

I’m always on the lookout for symbols and saying that can help calm the psychic typhoon that rages nonstop inside my noodle and I came across a humdinger during my trip.

“When patterns are broken,” says Tuli Kupferberg, “new worlds emerge.”

Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted to do on this trip, even though it was relatively brief. I wanted to get away from the same-old same old and look for ways to improve my life.

Now on this last morning I was a bit hyper—okay, extremely hyper—because I had to catch a plane back to New York in a few hours and I thought one last climb up this nice high hill on the campus would help dispel some of the pre-flight jitters.

It didn’t, of course, and that’s why God gave us Xanax, but it my own defense I didn’t take as many pills this time, which I consider a minor victory.

I never did make it to the top of the hill that morning because as I was cutting through a parking lot, this big stray dog came running out from behind a mound of dirt that some work crews had piled up a few days earlier.

Only he wasn’t a stray dog; he was a coyote.

As a native Brooklynite, the only knowledge I have of coyotes comes from the old Road Runner cartoons, and I suspect they aren’t particularly accurate in their depiction of the Canis latrans.

The main thing I wanted to know was whether or not this fucker was going to take a bite out of yours truly.

I was pretty certain that coyotes don’t attack people, but I didn’t want to take a chance of having my genitals gnawed off, so I started to back away.

Meep! Meep!

But then I stopped.

“Aw, hell,” I thought. “He probably got spooked and ran off. I can still climb to the top of the hill.”

Only this guy hadn’t run off. He was standing tall on the mound of dirt, paws firmly planted like he was posing for a portrait painting.

He had a real territorial chip on his shoulder so I decided to stick with my original decision and get the hell out of there.

“Your world, brother,” I said, avoiding eye contact. “Have a nice day.”

My aunt and uncle later informed me that no, coyotes don’t normally attack people, but then a Google search turned up this little nugget on information.

“Coyote attacks on humans are uncommon and rarely cause serious injuries, mainly due to the relatively small size of the coyote but have been increasingly frequent, especially in the state of California.”

Okay, then, so maybe I was right to alter my course of direction.

And, even though I don’t intend to socialize with these critters, I was intrigued by one description of the species that said the coyote is “both a gregarious and solitary animal.”

It’s strange, but some days I feel that way myself. I enjoy good company and I met some very nice people during this trip, but I also like being on my own as well—although lately I confess I am hungering more for a relationship.

I wanted to see what coyotes symbolize beyond the natural world and I found an article on the California psychics website that said “a coyote sighting is generally a message to take a look within, to not take life too seriously, to lighten up, and to learn to laugh at ourselves and even our mistakes.”

“Coyotes also remind us that anything we do to others will come back to us—good or bad,” the article says.

Take a look within? Lighten up? Furry karma? Hell, I think that’s great advice as we get ready to start a new year.

Only I’m not eating out of any garbage cans.