On an unexpected trip to the airport this a.m. to pick up a wayward Acaphlegmic who has returned from a furtive trip that he remains mum about, I take in my unusual surroundings. Sitting in the Autoshare car, stuck on Lakeshore Boulevard just past Ontario Place with the entrance to the Gardiner Expressway seemingly miles in the distance, I wonder how we’ve arrived at this place. Aren’t we smarter than this?
We’re supposed to be going in the opposite direction from the morning rush hour yet here we are, traffic stopped in all directions, wasting our lives away. To my right, the bike lanes and footpaths of the lakefront remain sadly deserted. We’re all here in our cars, idle, as a brownish-green hue settles in on the horizon over the lake and this is only our second heat alert day of the season and it is the 26th of May, still 3 weeks short of the official start of summer!
We’ve chosen ours cars over fully functioning public transit. We ship our cargo by truck instead of rail. We tune into the radio to hear the likes of the Dean Blundell Show, a fucking 4th-rate Howard Stern impersonator who talks about men’s balls, wiener supporters and armpit sniffing without even being funny about any of it!! I mean, how inept is that?
No wonder we are so full of rage and contempt and bile. This, apparently, is how many of us begin our days. Stuck in a metal, plastic and glass container, bumper to bumper, stopping and starting, our heads filled with amateurish frat boy puerility. How have we let this happen to ourselves? Shouldn’t we be demanding a little more from our lives? We should be surprised that our society isn’t subject to more random murderous rampages.
— submitted dyingly slowly by Urban Sophisticat