War on Walking

War on Walking by CJ Beadle

I enjoy walking. This hasn't always been the case, but two things changed the way I view it. The first was the invention of mp3 players, which now mean I can go for a walk while listening to my favourite songs. Well perhaps more accurately, songs that were once my favourites but are fairly dated now. Being a student, CDs are like my sex life in my teens: I'm not getting any. The second was the fact that climbing more than two sets of stairs started to require an oxygen cylinder, and more than five flights meant I'd have to set up camp half way and continue on in the morning. With this knowledge came the sudden realisation that I needed to get fit.

If you tell people you're walking somewhere they assume you're poor, unable to get a lift or just plain crazy. "Oh you should have called, I could have picked you up" they say in a sympathetic tone, realising they could have saved you from the arduous plight you were forced to endure. So then you tell them that you enjoyed the walk, it was a lovely day outside and you were up early enough that most of the scum in the area where still in bed, hungover from their night of drinking cheap cider on street corners. They look at you with a mix of shock and sympathy at your quaint ways, the way you'd look at a child who has done nothing but play with an empty box for so long that he's developed scurvy; part of you knows you should tell them to stop, but don't really have the heart to make them do so. Then they'll say something to the effect of "enjoy your walk" with a derisive sneer, as if they think within three minutes of stepping out the door you'll see the error of your ways and fall to your knees cursing your hubris and crying to the gods for aid, only to be found by the local residents huddled in the foetal position having eaten your own shoes to survive.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you should never offer people a lift. My point is that if they turn you down don't look at them as a backwards person who has yet to embrace the wonders of technology. The desire to walk does not make someone a technophobic weirdo. And when the eventual zombie apocalypse comes we can be safe in the fact we don't have to outrun them, we just need to outrun you. Unless you get to your cars I guess, in which case we're screwed. Hmm, I should probably step up my zombie combat training to 17 times a week, just in case...

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This is the first thing I ever got published (only in my student paper, mind, but hey at least it's a step in the right direction). I put this up unedited, but looking back at it I think I'd change the ending, it seems a bit too random and doesn't exactly fit the tone of the rest of it. Still, I thought I'd put it up as I submitted it and see if people agree with me.

I actually thought the second paragraph was the letdown - it lacked funnies and the scurvy line wasn't logical (was it?). The final paragraph clawed it back for me - but I wondered whether the out-running thing was "wrong". Surely, it should be out-walk, seeing as that is what the piece is about, and it evokes the Romero zombies of the 70s and 80s? And probably just "step up my zombie combat training" rather than "17 times per week" as an edit. It's a bit more obscure and, of course, quicker.

Also, first para - why sex life in my teens? I'm not sure most people will empathise with that. Just sex life, and everyone will. It's the only reference to youth and without it, it immediately has broader appeal.

Hey CJ,

this was an enjoyable read, not sure what plans you have for it, but I could see this becoming part of a stand-up routine. You'd need boil it down to the basics, but it has promise.

To Empty: Thanks for the advice, some of it definitely makes sense now it's been pointed out to me, like shortening the last line. The logic (if you can call anything I do logical) behind the scurvy line was that the kid has played with a box for so long that he's not even been eating and is therefore malnourished, but hey, if it needs explaining it clearly doesn't work

Most of the people I spoke to loved the second paragraph, which is why I thought the ending was the let down. My friends and I all love Charlie Brooker, David Mitchell and Zero Punctuation, and I guess that's the kind of comedy I was aiming for. Hopefully it'll get better with time though.

To AngieBaby: Glad you enjoyed it. Like I said it was orignally written just for the SU paper, so I don't really have any plans for it. I've literally just started out with the whole writing thing, so I consider just getting something onto paper to be somewhat of a victory. As for stand-up, it's something I love to write, but not sure if I have the skill to perform. I plan to join Toastmasters or some such society once I've finished university in an effort to improve (by which I mean gain) my public speaking skills, which I hope will lead to me being comfortable performing. Still, your post has given me some encouragement, so thanks!

Quote: CJ Beadle @ April 9 2010, 9:03 AM BST

To The logic (if you can call anything I do logical) behind the scurvy line was that the kid has played with a box for so long that he's not even been eating and is therefore malnourished

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Yeah, sorry, I got that bit - why scurvy doesn't work for me is that it doesn't equal malnourished. It's a vitamin deficiency, so you could be very well fed but still get scurvy. If you were malnourished you'd probably die before you got scurvy. I know this is over analysing a tiny line, but I'm trying to demonstrate why it threw me off - I was thinking about if that joke made sense, which prevented it from being funny. May just be me being typically anal, I guess. There is a joke to be made in there, but for me 'scurvy' isn't it.

I would agree that this reads as a proto stand-up routine, so maybe it's worth thinking about? You clearly have skill in observational material.