COLUMN: That's Not Funny

From Nathan Smith's "South End of the Northbound," Fall '95 From Nathan Smith's "South End of the Northbound," Fall '95The other night, the greatest thing happened to me: I was mugged. Those words scream out for an explanation, and that's what this, my final column of the semester, will provide. I had been having a rough time. My girlfriend of two years, whom I still dearly love, had dumped me for another man a few days before. As a result I had been unable to concentrate on my work, and had begun to lag sorely behind. This had planted the seeds of growing depression, and compounded with numerous other personal anxieties, had rendered my existence a hellish one. As Al Greene's smooth voice crooned about the joys of love and happiness, two commodities which I had begun to feel would never again resurface in my life, tears welled up in my eyes. The torrent of sadness rushing over me shook my body so hard, I actually wailed in pain. I must have looked pretty foolish, sitting at the wheel, trying to lock the Club, weeping and moaning as the music flowed gently from my stereo. Yes, I must have looked foolish, which essentially made me look like an easy target. And I was. When the tears began to subside, I turned off the stereo and opened my door. No sooner had I shut and locked it, when I felt a hand roughly grab the collar of my coat. Something cold, dull and metallic pressed firmly against the underside of my chin. It may have been a gun, but it doesn't matter. Being shot in the head or bludgeoned with a lead pipe are equally gruesome alternatives in my mind. "Gimme your wallet," a voice grumbled in my ear. I wasn't afraid. I didn't even really understand that my life was in danger, or that I was being robbed. I just knew I had to do what the voice commanded. I produced my billfold and the hand holding the metallic object moved to take it from me. Suddenly my field of vision liquefied, into a blur of lights and buildings. In a whirl I was jerked to the ground by my collar as my assailant took off running. My head smacked the pavement, though as a matter of good fortune my hair was pulled back -- the thick pony tail cushioned the blow. I lay dazed on the ground for a moment. At last I sat up and looked around. About 30 feet away lay my emptied wallet. For the moment my intense relief was concentrated on the fact that I would not have to cancel my credit cards or renew my driver's license; such trivial matters to consider when I might well have just had a gun to my head. I picked it up and walked to my house. For a brief period, no thoughts formed in my head. When I made it inside my apartment, the meaning of it all struck me like a ton of bricks. I had been mugged, possibly at gunpoint. For the sake of 15 dollars someone had been willing to take complete control over another human being, deprive them of their right to act of their own will, and perhaps if necessary to deprive them of their life. But I was alive. I survived. Suddenly, and most likely to the chagrin of my neighbors, I found myself laughing and whooping at the top of my lungs, crying tears of joy. I was alive! When I think of it now, I wonder if I should have called the cops. Surely the criminal was a dangerous one, and should not have been allowed to continue attacking innocent people. But to what avail? I had no description to provide. Furthermore, I felt more like shaking his hand than turning him in. For a measly 15 dollars, I had purchased my life. Not just in the sense of preventing him from taking it away; I had been empowered to take my life back for myself. What possible sense could there be in my bellyaching over lost love and mountains of classwork? Just moments before the episode began I had been weeping, wailing, wondering if I could carry on. Though unpleasant things have happened to me of late, these are facts of life to be faced. They are the price every human being must pay in order to taste the sweet joy of living. I continue to think and feel, and if that requires the agony of a broken heart, a stress-ridden mind and all the other discomforts of existence, then so be it. It seems that that was the best spent 15 dollars of my life. I have gained an appreciation, not just for the good things in life like love and happiness, but even for the bad. I appreciate heartbreak, school work, fatigue, injustice and robbery. For the alternative, an eternal sleep in a cool velvet darkness, has little appeal. I hope that when the power of this experience fades, as it surely will, I will not have to relearn it in the same manner. As for myself, passersby may expect an inexplicable grin on my face for quite some time, even when I trudge through the bitterest of cold to the most boring of classes.

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