Driving. (A companion piece to a post from last September).
I recently spent a few weeks overseas, some of the time in a couple cities comparable in size to Toronto. Sydney, Australia and Singapore.
In neither place did I ever sit behind the wheel of a car, doing the actual driving. Mostly because the wheel was on the wrong side of the vehicle, and I may just be getting too old to handle that kind of cognitive dissonance. Motoring habits and clutch-pedal foot rusted into place. Continue reading
Ten days ago or thereabouts, I wrote a prequel to this post, Training It. In it, I suggested that folks like me yours truly (because I don’t know the proper I/me grammar with that), North Americans raised with little hands-on exposure to the wider world around them, couldn’t fully appreciate an optimally functioning transit system.
Continue reading
[Car proud, car envy. But so much more! New to these serial pages? Catch up, part I & part II].
***
“But she’s so self-righteous about it!” Avrum claims, and gets all incensed at my eye-roll. Yes, eye-roll, “I am not! That’s bullshit!”
Too easy.
Not to generalize but, in my experience, those who drive Teslas tend to portray themselves as, how to put this kindly, planetary saviours? They could be racing down the road, tossing fast food wrappers out the window as they go, rolling over endangered turtles and knocking spotted owls from the air and still claim the mantel of climate warrior. My Other Car Is A… Are you f’n kidding me? What other car?! Continue reading