These Boots
They say that in order to really know someone you need to walk a mile in their shoes. I think what they really meant was you need to spend some time in the neighborhood and on the streets in the place that shaped their formative years, where they first rode a bike, kissed their first boy, earned their first speeding ticket. Driving around on the roads where I grew up is both amusing and alarming. In the short time I’ve been away I’ve forgotten about automobile life on the ‘burban streets. For instance, when someone breaks to let you in, even on the speeding freeway, you must cheerily wave your hand, signaling visible appreciation. This is quite common and probably the most extreme case of deadly politeness- Yes, hello hi, yes you back there 17 feet behind me going 75 miles an hour in the celadon green subaru, thanks so much for allowing me to slide on in front of you and not just plow right into you in my ‘hurken monster truck. See my hand? Elbow-elbow, wrist, wrist, wrist- up high in the window so you can see it- thanks gobs! Now let me get back to this cellphone call and change my dave matthews cd.
Another thing I’ve noticed is that pedestrians run the show. If a driver notices a pedestrian even remotely near a crosswalk visible from a half mile away, they will slow down in anticipation of the cross. Slow, breakhard, glance, crossing? Here, go right ahead, and please take your time, and let your 6 year old child drag 10 feet behind you, all the while looking directly at me because he knows he’s making me wait. Even on busy streets (and ‘burban busy I mean over 35mph) drivers break to let someone cross, even if the pedestrian is on the other side of the street. My old hometown has set up construction-orange hand-held flags along posts throughout the city, to hold while crossing and better alert drivers of your higher order of pedestrianess. Gina decided they make great wakeboarding man-down flags for her boat.
Lastly, if you want to ride on the most energy-efficient form of transportation (including walking) ever created- the bicycle- you simply must wear a helmet. It is the law. Even for grownups. Not only will you readily be stopped and fined by local police (on bicycles themselves), on the lovely bike trails which run for miles, you will be shamed. Shamed and mocked vocally by fellow bicyclers- hey! where’s your helmet?- who must feel both hot and ridiculous in their large plastic aerodynamically shaped alien helmets. I recently made a trip to the microsoft campus for work and was amazed by the number of people in full-on bicycler’s gear (or do they call themselves "bikers?"), all decked out armstrong-style just to ride home from work.
But this is also the same crowd who fancy the bald on top, long pony in back look and whose style du jour includes spiderman tshirts, khaki shorts, birks, white socks. I’m just sayin.
goodnight. drive safe.
