My beloved reader: Congratulations to you, for you are about to read the historic first installment of my new series “Two Things In The Park,” where I tell you about two things I saw in the park in a single outing. This time it was Colin Farrell and a turtle.
Last weekend we Manhattanites experienced our first hot day of the year. I thought this would be a good opportunity to do my normal workout - a brisk walk around the six mile loop - with the added benefit of extra sweating. I thought I had adequately prehydrated but, accustomed to a more temperate routine, I failed to account for just how much more fluid my body would lose in its all important effort to maintain homeostasis. Three quarters of the way around, I started to feel a bit loopy. I looked down and realized I had almost entirely stopped sweating. Not great!
Stopping by a couple of bubblers (AKA water fountains) on the way, I made it back home and drank a gallon of water, after which my urine was still whiskey colored. I’d marched myself to the brink and lived to tell the tale, shaking with the reminder of the delicate balance my mammalian vessel must maintain in order to continue being. I drank some more water, showered, and headed back across the park to meet Laura who was wrapping up a nice lunch with a friend. It was on my return journey home that the real adventure began.
As I was about to enter the park, I saw a man in athletic shorts and a headband holding his hair back sitting on a bench. These were, in order, my thoughts:
Oof, this guy did the same thing I did - work out in the heat - except he was definitely running.
He looks a lot like Colin Farrell.
Oh, it is Colin Farrell.
I should ask him if he’s all right and encourage him to drink water, maybe even offer to get him some. If Colin Farrell dies of heat stroke and I could have prevented it - I’ll never get to tell him I thought he did a great job as Bullseye in the Ben Affleck Daredevil movie. I could tell him now, but he looks so tired and dehydrated.
I will say nothing. I’m sure Colin Farrell knows how to take care of himself.
I found this picture on the internet - it’s from a while ago, but this does seem to be his go-to running ‘fit
I marched by, leaving Colin in charge of his own fate. And then: I saw a second creature who seemed to be having a difficult time adjusting to the heat. A large tourist group in matching shirts was gathered near the Daniel Webster statue catching their collective breath. And trucking past them on the walking path was a turtle!
I slowed my pace to walk alongside the little buddy, as something about the situation just didn’t sit right with me. Perhaps it was my lingering feeling that I could have helped Colin Farrell that I hoped to assuage by helping this other creature. The park was bustling, and in less than a minute I witnessed no less than five passersby exclaim, “A turtle!” One woman, through no fault of her own, nearly stepped on him (this could have been a she-turt but I’m going to take the risk of misgendering him).
I returned the following day to dramatically reenact the incident, as I did not want to be “that guy” taking turtle selfies
He is really moving though, isn’t he? What mission did I interrupt?
I called 311 to ask what to do - I vaguely recalled someone getting in trouble for interacting with a turtle. I got through quite quickly. “Hi, I’m by the Daniel Webster statue in Central Park and there’s a turtle on the walking path. It’s very hot out and there are a lot of people, is it okay if I pick him up and put him back in the pond?”
“Okay, hold on, let’s see…wildlife in the park…um it says here to just leave it alone unless you think the animal is in danger?”
“I do think it’s in danger, it seems a bit disoriented and is heading in the wrong direction.”
At this point, Turty Harry had clambered onto the little median separating the footpath from the biking/running thoroughfare.
“Okay I’m going to connect you to the priority line and they should be able to tell you what to do.” The call was promptly dropped just as Turty plopped over the side of the median and onto the bustling street. It was at this moment my cautionary observance flamed into full blown action. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to catch a turtle before, but should you ever need to - it is easy.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and grabbed Turty’s shell from the sides.
“Thank you sir!” I heard one onlooker say. I didn’t see who it was, I was laser focused on my route. I didn’t want to end up on TMZ: Local Nincompoop Steals Turtle. On my face I wore an expression of determined compassion as I headed purposefully toward the pond. I nodded curtly to a few pedestrians who passed in the opposite direction. Cries of “Wow, he’s got a turtle!” and “Whoa, a turtle!” zoomed past my unbothered ears. There was a sizeable crowd gathered in and around the gazebo - I deemed it best not to go all the way down there, as this might serve to disorient Turty further and also could lead cynical observers to think I was in this for the glory. I was not. I just wanted to help.
This is no photograph - well, it is a photograph, but it is a photograph of a drawing I created depicting my point of view while carrying Turty.
I plopped Turty over the side of a little fence facing downhill. A hand-holding couple who had missed the lead up stopped to see what I was looking at. “Wow, a turtle!” He turned and started climbing uphill, back toward the bike path, and looked up at us. “He was wandering onto the street, I didn’t want him to get stepped on or run over, so I brought him back here. He could be sick or something, I don’t know.” “He doesn’t look sick,” the boyfriend said, as Turty turned back around and scooted into the water. “Aw, what a good Samaritan,” the girlfriend said. I gave them a thumbs up and went on my way.
And that was the last I saw of him
As I walked, I wondered: Had I done the right thing? It certainly felt right. But I didn’t know this turtle’s story. Perhaps he was running from bullies. Maybe he was a she, and she was escaping from an abusive relationship. Maybe Turty was infected with a parasite that hijacked his nervous system and commanded his limbs to transport himself to a sunny hill to dry out and die so that a bird would eat him and the parasite could take to the skies. Maybe by returning him to the water I foiled the parasite’s plan. Maybe Turty was transporting an evil talisman back to its source to be destroyed. Maybe Turty was on a mission to reclaim an evil talisman and become the Dark Lord of All Turts. When you interfere with nature, you just can’t know what you’re really doing. I hope Colin Farrell got home okay.
Below this line is the first diagram I drew depicting me carrying Turty. I tried to incorporate my torso and one foot sticking out, as I was walking, but the resulting image could be…misconstrued. Therefore it is only for the eyes of my most loyal and generous subscribers. Thank you for reading!
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