Space. We all want it. We all crave it. We all need it.

“I need my space.”

“Give me more space.”

“Honey. I’m going out for a while. I just need some space.”

Well, it’s no wonder people want their space, because when town fills up, as it does when the Ptomaine Festival is in town, space is really hard to find.

Just walking the sidewalks can be a challenge, as people tend to walk four and five abreast and pretty much squeeze you stumbling into the street or crashing into a building. To be quite honest I’m really getting tired of being the one who’s always pushed into the street.

I’ve tried to hold my ground, but that only leads to collisions — seriously. I’m not sure who has the right-of-way on the sidewalk, but a little common courtesy would help. I know you are trying to tell your friend a great story, but couldn’t you fall in behind her, pause for a second, then continue?

It’s the same on the road: I’m tired of people who tailgate. I want my space, or at least a few car lengths behind me. And what’s with people who watch the light like a hawk, then turn right in front of you when the light turns green? And they are often the same people who follow everyone through the light after it’s been red for at least 10 seconds.

And then there’s me, trying to make a left turn on Main Street, but the traffic is so backed up drivers fill every nook and cranny of space on the road. Hey! How about leaving a gap at intersections so we can make turns? That would be nice. Trust me — that car length you just filled up isn’t going to make a bit of difference by the time you get to Basalt.

Hiking the trails around here is also becoming a challenge, and it’s all because most cyclists never learned how to be courteous. What every happened to “On your left,” and “On your right?”

I’m hiking up Smuggler with a friend, and bikes are zooming by us at fairly high rates of speed, and they try to thread a needle without informing you they are coming. We almost got killed several times as one bike would whiz by, then we would move over into that space not realizing another bike was right behind them. And with those bars that stick out and up from the ends of the stock handlebars, it’s like the running of the bulls.

This year I finally got a bicycle, as I was embarrassed to start up the car to go only a short distance to town. The first thing I got was a bell that cost me under $10. Heck, the bell cost almost as much as my bike, but it seems that when you spend $4,000 on a bike, the bell would be standard equipment.

Just a little “ding” here and there and an “On your right, on your left” is all it takes to be courteous and prevent an accident.

All everybody wants is a little bit of space, and when you find you’re encroaching into someone else’s space, a little wave, a nod, an “excuse me” or even a “ding” really helps.

I’ve been thinking about mounting a bell on myself when walking. Either that, or wearing all my hockey equipment and holding my ground. You’ll probably clear out because I look like nut, but I don’t care. I just want my space.

And I have to give kudos to Gerald Terwilliger, who wrote a letter in the June 14 issue of the Aspen Daily News claiming that all winter long I bitched about the snow when it was me who moved to a snowy climate in the first place. This is after I wrote an article about people who moved next to the shooting range in Basalt and then complained about it. Well, touché, Mr. Terwilliger.

I must add, however, that with all the talk of global warming, I never dreamed we would ever have a season like last winter. I made the assumption that my home would be surrounded by beach property by now, and I’d be playing golf everyday and wiggling my toes in the sand.

Sheldon Fingerman welcomes your comments at sheldon@sopris.net.