|
|
Kill Your Car!
|
|
|
|
|
I must make a confession. It's been over six months since I last drove a car.
No, I didn't get in trouble with the law, and
nobody took my license away. Believe it or not, I've chosen not to drive. I moved from Los Angeles to Boston, sold my car, and started using the subway — and I love it.
It may seem insane in this country, where the right to bear a snazzy automobile is practically written into the Constitution, but I despise driving. It's so impersonal speeding about town in a little box. I just don't feel confident having that much metal under my control, and I certainly don't want my safety to depend on some of the crazed idiots who do feel confident. Maybe I'm just a wimp, but no longer having to change lanes in busy, honking traffic makes me ecstatic.
Walking is so much more enjoyable and civilized. Walkers almost never give other walkers the finger. If a slow walker steps in front of you, it's easy to get past them. Once you get where you're going, you don't have to spend ten minutes walking around in circles looking for a place to put your shoes. And if you happen to have really big shoes, you don't have to worry about squeezing them into some tiny spot.
I know. I know. Going carless can be a drag. Whenever I need to go to the supermarket or carry my laundry four blocks to the laundromat, walking isn't quite so fun. And rain can put a damper on any excursion, but that's just a small price I must pay to escape the culture and dominance of the automobile.
Having lived in L.A., I know all about that dominance. Trust me. All the clichés you've heard about driving in L.A. are true. About the only time people there walk is when a pet demands it. And you know it's only a matter of time before that stops.
"Wow! I just got a membership at this brand-new indoor pet-walking emporium in Santa Monica. Sure, it's an hour drive to get there, but Fluffy and Sparky love it!"
Whenever I walked to the store, I felt as if I was the only pedestrian in Southern California. Once, when I was leaving my apartment, my 20-year-old neighbor asked if I was driving to the convenience store three blocks away. It was a three-minute walk, and the street outside my apartment was mired in rush-hour traffic. Driving would have taken twice as long as walking, but when I told him I wasn't driving that way, he merely shrugged and went back in his apartment. Walking was apparently too much to ask.
After a year and a half, I leapt at the chance to escape the automotive beast that is Los Angeles. No more five-mile, thirty-minute commutes for me. I wanted to be in a city where I could thrive on foot, and Boston is one of the few left. Boston may have more than its share of crazy drivers and one-way streets, but at least you can survive quite easily without an automobile.
I realize that many of you are now firing up your e-mail programs to send nasty letters belittling me as some lunatic. This is America, you will say. Our cars are a part of us. You simply cannot live without a car, you will tell me. But why not try it?
Sure, we've regressed to the point where it's often impossible to be a pedestrian, but if you live somewhere where walking is still viable, give it a try. Just see how liberated you feel. Road rage will vanish. Life will no longer be a blur. Tall buildings surrounded by traffic will start to seem like cities again.
And one final note: Without a car, you will never ever have to give money to a mechanic again. Isn't that reason enough to sell off that hunk of metal?
Joe Lavin is much more than a man; he's an entire domain name. Check out his humor column at joelavin.com.
|
|
|
