The self righteous New Yorker speaks out about... cars!
Do I still get to call myself a New Yorker? At this point, I would argue, yes. As a Navy brat, Brooklyn was the longest place I lived anywhere (9 years), and if you count the three in Westchester County, make that twelve. After high school, I went around calling myself a San Franciscan for at least five years, until I started feeling like a New Yorker. So I guess I will keep calling myself that as long as I feel like one. Please note that the first thing that I do in the morning (aside from coffee) is read the NY Times. And I ALWAYS read the metro section first.
So anyway, I've had to make solo trips down to almost-Orange-county for three days in a row. (AND we'll be going back on Saturday!) This involves three separate hellish highways. Yesterday, the trip was brilliantly made during rush hour, and I had my first true experience of driving in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
It felt so unreal to me. There I was, sitting in this hunk of metal, surrounded by this vast, slow-moving sea of hunks of metal. I felt dizzy and claustrophobic. Also, I was following Derek, and my technique of following him is to drive as closely as possible without rear-ending him. He loves that. And hey, if I do rear-end him, he'll still love me in the morning, whereas a random driver wouldn't.
Anyway, the thoughts running through my head as I sat in traffic freaking out included, I can't believe this is my life now. To me, the lifestyle in New York just made so much more sense! You walk out of your house, and you get on a train, and you are surrounded by other people on the train, and you can see who these people are and interact with them, and it is (for the most part) humane. When driving, it's always "this guy", "this asshole" - and sometimes you look and see that it's a teenager or a little old lady or whatever, but usually you have no idea who the fuck it is in the adjacent hunk of metal, cutting you off or maybe you're cutting them off. But they're just a car. And there you are in your little void, listening to the same Smiths tape over and over because you can't change the tape and drive at the same time. You are in your little warp with your thoughts and the Smiths, you might start to hyperventitilate and have a panic attack and NO ONE WOULD KNOW.
I won't even get started on cars and the environment, and how I've loved feeling self-righteous as a New Yorker for the past 9 years, self-righteous in the knowledge that I was not contributing to global warming and the evil oil industry (well, at least not in the car way). And now I am. And there are very few places we could move where I wouldn't be. And this is yet another reason why.....
New York is the Center of the Universe and the Best Place in the World.
So anyway, I've had to make solo trips down to almost-Orange-county for three days in a row. (AND we'll be going back on Saturday!) This involves three separate hellish highways. Yesterday, the trip was brilliantly made during rush hour, and I had my first true experience of driving in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
It felt so unreal to me. There I was, sitting in this hunk of metal, surrounded by this vast, slow-moving sea of hunks of metal. I felt dizzy and claustrophobic. Also, I was following Derek, and my technique of following him is to drive as closely as possible without rear-ending him. He loves that. And hey, if I do rear-end him, he'll still love me in the morning, whereas a random driver wouldn't.
Anyway, the thoughts running through my head as I sat in traffic freaking out included, I can't believe this is my life now. To me, the lifestyle in New York just made so much more sense! You walk out of your house, and you get on a train, and you are surrounded by other people on the train, and you can see who these people are and interact with them, and it is (for the most part) humane. When driving, it's always "this guy", "this asshole" - and sometimes you look and see that it's a teenager or a little old lady or whatever, but usually you have no idea who the fuck it is in the adjacent hunk of metal, cutting you off or maybe you're cutting them off. But they're just a car. And there you are in your little void, listening to the same Smiths tape over and over because you can't change the tape and drive at the same time. You are in your little warp with your thoughts and the Smiths, you might start to hyperventitilate and have a panic attack and NO ONE WOULD KNOW.
I won't even get started on cars and the environment, and how I've loved feeling self-righteous as a New Yorker for the past 9 years, self-righteous in the knowledge that I was not contributing to global warming and the evil oil industry (well, at least not in the car way). And now I am. And there are very few places we could move where I wouldn't be. And this is yet another reason why.....
New York is the Center of the Universe and the Best Place in the World.
posted by Melissa at 12:50 PM
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