Wine (Myth) Making

August 5, 2016

(A little change of pace today, for all you oenophiles out there who thought the California wine industry started with Ernest and Julio Gallo. From our Los Angeles correspondent, Ned Teitelbaum, Executive Director of Plant The Vine, an urban landscape history and public memory project intending to create a greater awareness of L.A.’s wine-making past through the establishment of small community vineyards. Viticulture?! Everybody knows L.A. has no culture.)

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I had been researching a public-history project about Los Angeles’ first truly dominant industry, that of winegrowing and winemaking, when I realized that I’d been running across quite a lot of what I can only describe as an open and obvious bias against Los Angeles terroir. This bias, which I’ve encountered in conversation as well as in what I’ve read, appears to come from what I’ll call, with a shout-out to Norman Klein (The History of Forgetting: Los Angeles and the Erasure of Memory), a Northern California wine imaginary that views Los Angeles, it’s past as well as its present, through the smoggy lens of its post-war, car-first history. According to this imaginary – you could also call it a construct or myth — the wine industry left Los Angeles, where it had been ensconced since the days of the Spanish missions, because it had found superior terroir in Sonoma and Napa Valley.

But if the terroir – a French term coming from the word ‘terre’, meaning earth, but more inclusive of climate conditions – was of such inferior quality, how then could Los Angeles have become the center of wine production in California for much of the 19th Century? Yes, the padres at the missions certainly had the benefit of lots of “free” Native American labor. But this wasn’t unique to Los Angeles. The padres in San Francisco had peons too. But no matter how many they had, they still couldn’t get the grapes to mature around the chilly, fog-bound mission by the bay.

In fact, and contrary to the myth, what made Los Angeles a wine-growing Mecca was that it had the perfect terroir for the heat-seeking Spanish varieties brought by the padres from home. firstcitysealOne can imagine how filled with hope these early settlers must have been when they first came upon the hot, dry growing conditions of Los Angeles, so similar to those of places like La Mancha, home of the drought-tolerant Airen grape, which is used for Brandy de Jerez (a version of which was made in copious quantities at L.A. missions); or the sherry-producing areas of Montilla-Moriles, which grows the Pedro Ximenez grape; Xeres, where Palomino Fino thrives, and Malaga, whose Muscat of Alexandria grows to this day at the San Gabriel Mission in the L.A. suburb of Alhambra.

No, there was no problem growing grapes in Los Angeles, and of the finest quality, from what we read in accounts of the time. And yet the myth of inferior terroir persists. Why? One possible explanation is that it is part of a larger story, one that goes back centuries, to the struggle for empire and cultural supremacy between Spain and England. In her book, Empire of Vines: Wine Culture in America, Erica Hannickel points out that viticulture has always been a means of establishing cultural as well as political hegemony over populations and over place. Contemporary examples of this abound. A walk through the vineyards of Sicily reveals a succession of differing viticultural inclinations, each of them tied to a different period of foreign rule. LAseal In the former Soviet-Bloc countries, Russian grapes are now being replaced with indigenous varieties. And in drought-plagued areas of California, including L.A. County and Napa and Sonoma, thought is now being given as to the culturally driven wisdom of having planted the thirsty varieties of Bordeaux, Burgundy and the Rhine, when the drought-resistant varieties of southern Spain would certainly have been a more sustainable choice.

So, if it wasn’t the inferiority of the growing conditions that caused the wine industry to abandon Los Angeles, then what was it? A related myth suggests it was because of vineyard blights such as philloxera or Pierce’s disease. But these afflicted Sonoma and Napa as much as any other part of the state. No, the main reason the industry left L.A. was quite simply the city’s growing hunger for land. With the expansion of its port at San Pedro and the arrival of the intercontinental railroad in 1874, Los Angeles was increasingly integrated into the global economy. The vineyards, which occupied choice real estate between the river and the center of town, were sold off for housing and industrial subdivisions. donquixoteBut In the process, a centuries-old, site-specific Spanish viticulture, one that had flourished along the L.A. River for over a hundred years, was destroyed. With the strategic use of the Northern California wine imaginary, it did not take long for it to be erased from memory as well.

The other day, I was down by the river, participating in one of the frequent clean-ups organized by FoLAR (Friends of the Los Angeles River). As we pulled plastic bottles and other detritus from the caked mud and plant life, a refreshing breeze from the San Gabriel Mountains kicked up, passing through the Glendale Narrows and brushing by us on the way to the sea. I sat down under a willow, took off my hat and wiped the sweat from the back of my neck. A red-winged blackbird called out from a nearby cottonwood, and as I tried to decipher its song, the sound of passing cars faded into the background. I looked down-river, toward the city, and let the heat ripples play with my imagination. I thought of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, that unlikely duo of La Mancha, and became convinced that if they had happened upon Los Angeles in the late 1700s, they might well have felt right at home, pitching their tienda along the river bank and drinking the local version of Brandy de Jerez.

connoisseurly submitted by Ned Teitelbaum


Letting Go The Wheel

July 4, 2016

I spent the better part of 5 hours this holiday weekend behind the wheel of a Dodge Journey, apparently the auto aficionado’s choice of SUV or… dodgejourneyminivan or whatever thing this thing is called. How would I know the vehicle’s desirability? As soon as I returned it to the rental counter, it was summoned away to be washed and sent back out immediately upon request from another customer.

I did not sign up for a Dodge Journey, nor any other SUV or minivan. With just the 3 of us heading out of town for a couple days, figured a 4-door intermediate sized car would do the trick. But when I arrived at the rental place, there wasn’t a car on the lot. Just everything on steroids. My request for the smallest one they had delivered up the Journey. Yeah, the Journey. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to park it in our tiny garage. (Spoiler alert: Mission Accomplished, with room to spare.)

Once out on the highway, the Dodge Journey drove like in a car commercial. If you closed your eyes and pretended all those other cars weren’t there. dodgejourney1Only, not for too long. That’s kind of dangerous driving.

Seats as comfortable as any in my living room. Sound system better than mine at home. A/C keeping us cool on demand. Plenty of room for all the stuff we’ve packed in to make a summer long weekend complete.

Eventually, when traffic did thin out, after a couple hours, the Dodge Journey hit 140, 145 without me even really noticing. This, as the ad man’s copy reads, was a smooth ride. Enjoyable even, to a man who, at the best of times, hates being in a car.

It all got me to thinking about the not-too-distant future when we’d be handing over the task of driving fully to computers. Autonomous vehicles. Self-driving cars and the like.openroad1

The visuals we’re presented, Jetson’s style, are tiny pods, moving us around efficiently, not careening here and there, zipping back and forth, but almost assembly line like. Everyone travelling in orderly fashion at the same speed, a speed conducive, one would assume, to street life. So, not at crazy breakneck speeds.

Even out on the highways where the private automobile and trucking of goods rule, at what speed will our self-driving cars be allowed to haul it? Around these parts with a posted speed limit of 100 km/h but in practice, more like 120 before anyone really starts to notice, how fast will be deemed too fast? Eliminating driver error through computer control would, presumably, notch it up somewhat. What number will be practical, feasible or desirable?

A bigger question might be: will drivers who are used to determining their driving speed for themselves, within the constraints of using our streets with fellow travellers, of course, be willing to hand over the controls to the machine? Are we really going to be content to stick with the posted limits along with everyone else? selfdrivingcarsIsn’t the appeal (at least theoretically) of driving yourself the individualism to it? We’ve known almost since the private vehicle made its first appearance that speed kills yet we’ve proven ourselves unwilling to regulate their speed in any short of resolute way outside of road sign limits. Why are we still allowing cars on our streets and roads that are capable of going well over 300km/h, and building the infrastructure to accommodate such speeds?

Are we really to believe that with the advent of autonomous vehicles, we’re simply going to take our collective foot off the gas? Not to mention, give up the luxury something like the Dodge Journey offers up now for the confined space of the prototypical self-driving car that we’re seeing on the news reels. I have my doubts. Being in traffic is being in traffic whether you’re driving or not. selfdrivingcars1It’s hard to imagine giving up all the mod cons that we’ve become accustomed to if we’re still spending an inordinate amount of time in our cars in return for someonething else assuming control of the wheel.

Our relationship with our cars has never been that kind of rational. You could argue that car dependence and the building of our environment for the primacy of private automobile use is the very definition of irrational. Yet the assumption now seems to be technology will bring a sense of order, logic and reason to our road use. The machines will save us!

Only if they rewire our thinking about how we move around our cities and places, changing our priorities, will they. Because if the easiest, most reliable and comfortable way to get to where you want to go is still from inside a car, nothing much is going to change. selfdrivingcars2Fewer collisions and fatalities, which is not to be sniffed at, but cars first, cars foremost.

Unless, of course there are none remaining in the lot. Then we’ll all be moving around in Dodge Journeys. Riding in extreme comfort but still stuck in traffic despite the machine’s best efforts.

semi-autonomously submitted by Cityslikr


The Streets Of New York

May 25, 2016

I’m walking through the Battery the other day, a part of New York I’m not very familiar with, aside from it being the down to the Bronx’s up. It’s the southern tip of Manhattan, where you catch the Staten Island ferry. onthetownYou can see the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island from the Battery Park City Esplanade here. The 9/11 memorial, where the World Trade Centre buildings stood, sits just a few blocks north.

While much of this tiny part of the city is all business, Wall Street and the financial district proper, City Hall are situated nearby, Battery City Park itself is part of a planned, mixed use community, developed and built through the 1970s and 80s. This is where I’m strolling through when I stop at an intersection with the pedestrian crossing light counting down from about 7…6…5…4… I’ve got no particular place I need to be any time soon.

Evidently that’s not the case for a couple kids who dawdle and meander past me across the street with the light turning yellow and then red before they get to the sidewalk on the other side. I’m terrible guessing anyone’s age, especially the grade school types. So, I don’t know, 8, 10, the oldest one? The brother, I’m thinking, one of those scooters lugged up over a shoulder. His sister’s a couple years younger maybe? 6…7…8? They continue a few steps down the street before turning into the lobby of an apartment building.

Now, here’s the thing that strikes me as I begin walking again with the green light. mayberryThese two kids are young enough to these old eyes of mine for me to be surprised they aren’t being accompanied by an adult. So maybe they’re both older than I think. Or, and here’s my preferred hope, they’re old enough not to be supervised crossing the street because crossing a street isn’t supposed to require adult supervision.

Now, anybody who’s spent any time at all in New York City knows that crossing most streets here is something of a competition. And this particular street I crossed would not be considered a typical New York City street. Still, it wasn’t Main Street Mayberry. There were cars waiting at the red light. Cabs were all over the place, never what you would consider predictable. These two kids had to have come from somewhere where the streets were typically New York, busy, loud, not entirely orderly. Neither one seemed the least bit fussed about negotiating their way through it all.

As it should be.

That city streets need to be designed for children to easily make their way through without much more than the occasional look over their shoulder is something so obvious it shouldn’t even need stating. newyorkpictureThat they aren’t says a lot about our priorities. When streets, neighbourhoods, communities, cities are focussed on moving motorized vehicles, kids are raised inside cars.

It is surprising to me during my time here in New York just how many people insist on driving, at least in the parts of Manhattan I’ve made my way around so far, let’s say 140th Street down. Driving seems like the worst mobility choice. Unlike many, many other places, there are viable options to driving. Most spots that I’ve Google mapped to figure out routes to have shown public transit as fast or faster than driving to get there.

Still, vehicular traffic dominates the flow in this city, it seems to me. The streets bursting at the seams with pedestrians prove it. There is not the proper allocation of space for them.

On the eventful ride I took down the Columbus Street bike lane to 9th Avenue, from Central Park, winding up eventually in Soho, people fairly regularly stepped into my path, pushcart vendors used the lanes to get to where they were going. Why not? imwalkinghereIt’s street space opened up to them, recently reclaimed from automobiles. Intermingling with cyclists seems like a much safer prospect than contending with cars.

Walking in New York does come with a certain amount of pedestrian boldness you find on foot in very few other big cities. In recent years, they’ve begun the conversation in earnest of divvying up the public space that the streets and roads are in a more equitable fashion. It’s a start, is all it is. Until every street is safe enough for kids like the two I saw in Battery Park to navigate without so much as a second thought, we still have a long way to go, a long road ahead.

— moseyingly submitted by Cityslikr


Take Me Out To The Ballgame

May 20, 2016

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(While we’re off visiting New York City, our Los Angeles correspondent, Ned Teitelbaum, writes a post about Dodger baseball, linking it back to Brooklyn and public transit. [Did you know them Dodgers got their name from Manhattanites derisively referring to their borough counterparts as ‘trolley dodgers’ because the Brooklyn streets were once filled with trolley cars?] The serendipity of things, huh?)

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There are times during baseball season in Los Angeles when I feel closer to my father’s Brooklyn than I ever did living in New Jersey or Manhattan, or even Brooklyn itself, which we’d pass through on our way to see my grandmother when I was a kid. dodgerstadiumThose times are when the Mets are in town and I am lucky enough to catch one of their games at Dodger Stadium.

“Pick you up at six?” my friend, a New Jersey transplant with season tickets offers one recent evening. Great seats at the game, a meal that comes with the seats, and door-to-door service as well? He’s a great friend, but I decline the ride.

“I’ll just meet you there,” I tell him, thinking that’s how busy people do it in a big city, even if Los Angeles long ago abandoned its urban rubric for a more suburban slant. My friend knows I’m on a transit kick, and now since my car was recently totaled, I just walk and take transit practically everywhere.

Still, I feel a sense of guilt at not taking the ride, as if I’m being anti-social, biting the hand that feeds me.

“I just need to walk a little, climb some stairs,” I explain, and he pretends to understand. We’ll meet up at Will Call.ebbetsfield

I gather my things — my glove, my cap, my Lee Mazzilli shirt — and am about to leave when the phone rings.

“I can’t talk right now, Mom,” I say quickly into the phone.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“I’m taking the subway to the Dodgers game…” But even before the words are out of my mouth, I am struck by a mysterious, ghostly and disjointed nostalgia, as if I had spoken those exact words in that exact order countless times before.

But of course, I hadn’t.

The Dodgers left Brooklyn for the West Coast the year before I was born. reeseandrobinsonStill, I would hear stories all my young life from the devout Brooklyn Dodger fan that would marry my mother and become my father. He would tell me stories about Pee-Wee Reese, Roy Campanella, the Duke of Flatbush and of course, Jackie Robinson.

But Pee-Wee was his favorite. I’d never seen my father do anything more athletic than mow the lawn or pull up his socks, but in clips of Pee-Wee Reese playing shortstop, I recognized my father’s own physicality – short, quick and tightly muscled – and imagined him as a kid in Bed Stuy playing stickball or handball against the wall.

I take the Red Line down to Union Station from my local stop in Koreatown. When I get to the game, my friend has just arrived. He smiles under his Mets cap, and sports the team shirt as well. I read the name on the back – Dykstra. Lenny Dykstra, nick-named ‘Nails’ for his toughness and unrelenting drive to win. I see my father in him too.

We enter and take our seats. roycampanellaThe sun is coming down behind the palms that top the ridge out beyond the parking lot, and while the visiting players are out on the field, stretching and cracking jokes before the game, I am distracted by the swallows flying above their heads and feasting on the gnats. A breeze, fragrant with sage and mountain pine, comes down from the mountains and fills the stadium. There is no question that the Dodgers’ current home is a powerful place.

After the Star-Spangled Banner, the game starts. The Mets lose a pitchers’ battle on the last at-bat of the game. My friend drives us home in his electric car with the disembodied female voice telling him how to go.

“We’ll get ‘em next time,” he says, and we both know it’s just part of the game, what you say when your team loses. I thank him as I get out of the car and close the door. I am grateful for such a friend.

The next day, I’m waiting for the 206 bus to take me back to my office after a Chinese lunch. A man sits at the stop. He has curly, prematurely white hair and looks up at me, at the top of my head.

“How long you been a Mets fan?”newyorkmetslogo

At first I think it’s odd that he knows. But then I remember I am wearing the team cap.

“All my life,” I tell him with a certain pride.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out his own crumpled Mets cap and puts it on.

The man starts talking. And he is a fast talker, mostly about the Mets and how he was there when Shea Stadium opened in 1964, and for some reason, he gets free seats to any game he wants.

I want to tell him that I was there in 1969 when the Mets won it all, in the fifth game of the World Series at Shea, when they beat the Baltimore Orioles. But I can’t get a word in edgewise.

He continues talking, mentions ‘clients’ of his and I wonder what kind of clients he means. losangelesdodgerslogoHe tells me he got a ball signed at the game at Dodger Stadium the other day and the Mets players who had signed it.

“I got Campbell and Syndegaard and Morales,” he says, then doubles back. “Actually, I already had Morales. But I got Wright and Cespedes and De Grom and…”

He goes on like this even as we get on the now crowded bus and sit next to each other, taking up seats you’re supposed to give up to the elderly and the handicapped.

I glean from his non-stop stream that he is a professional drummer, which probably explains the round canvas bag in his lap. He plays the clubs in Koreatown, he tells me, knows a whole bunch of people from the world of entertainment, including Stevie Wonder and Zsa-Zsa Gabor, and is traveling around the country come June with the Platters. brooklyndodgerslogoWherever he goes, he checks out a baseball game. Detroit, Chicago, Philadelphia…

We get to my stop and he gives me his card.

“Call me anytime,” he tells me. “We’ll go to a game.”

I nod and thank him and climb over a few people to get out of the bus. And then I realize I never got a chance to ask him where he was from. Then again, why would I have? It was obvious. As obvious as Pee Wee and Syndegaard, the Duke of Flatbush and Wright.

echoingly submitted by Ned Teitelbaum


Everybody’s Talking

May 18, 2016

If they call, looking for me, tell them I’ll be in NYC. NYC is where I’ll be. Hustlin’ in NYC.*

imwalkinghere

(*New York City, in the state of New York)

I’m-walkin’-herely submitted by Cityslikr


The Politics Of Driving

May 9, 2016

Last week, I wrote about my self-diagnosed case of SUV-induced driving madness. The act of transforming into another, more horrible person while operating a motorized vehicle. gentlemenjekyllTurns out, that actually might be a thing, an ailment.

In response to the post, @trapdinawrpool sent me a 1950 National Film Board short film, Gentlemen Jekyll and Driver Hyde. Seems this has been a nasty condition afflicting drivers pretty much from the get-go of the auto age. Road rage.

We also received in our comments section a couple very interesting and pertinent links. A Wikipedia page to ‘Traffic psychology’, most of it not good or healthy. Also, a Guardian article from August 2013, Bad driving: what are we thinking?

Aside from pointing out that I’m not very original or breaking new ground here, it did feed into something that’s been percolating in my noggin for a bit now, accelerated significantly during my time spent down in Los Angeles earlier this year. Is there a link between our driving and our politics? Not necessarily big P politics but the way one approaches (or doesn’t) the political process, the expectations we hold of our elected officials and the demands we make of them.

Decades of research in traffic psychology suggests that poor driving is shaped by far more than carelessness or a subset of “problem drivers”. Even the most skilled road users are subject to loss of social awareness, intuitive biases, contradictory beliefs, and limits in cognitive capacity.

Decades of research in voting psychology suggests that political beliefs are shaped by far more than carelessness or a subset of “problem voters”. drivefreeEven the most skilled voters are subject to loss of social awareness, intuitive biases, contradictory beliefs and limits in cognitive capacity.

Strategically replace a couple words and phrases, and that paragraph still makes some sense.

In Fighting Traffic, Peter D. Norton’s book on the rise of the private automobile to the top of our transportation system heap, he points out how, in the early days when car makers were fighting for legitimacy and pushing back on the public perception of drivers as a dangerous menace on city streets, personal freedom and individual rights were evoked. Driving as a noble act, the logical outcome of the scientific age of reason, everything the Founding Fathers envisioned. I drive, therefore I am.

The automotive city arose in part from an attack on the old customs of street use and an effort to let individual liberty and free markets rule there too. From American ideals of political and economic freedom, motordom fashioned the rhetorical lever it needed.

Nearly a century later and this appeal to the spirit of individualism remains strong in the selling of cars. TV ads full of open roads, running through empty country, trekking deep into the wild frontier. getofmylawn“Long live the pioneers!”

The ascendancy of car travel and commuting contributed, not in a minor way, to the spread of the suburban design of cities that we contend with today. Detached, single-family homes on large lots, single-use building codes strictly maintained, industry here, commercial there, residential over that way, fed by and dependent upon car travel. The accentuation of private space enabled, ironically, by massive public spending in road and freeway infrastructure.

Can the leap be made, though, connecting the triumph of the car, and its emphasis on individual convenience and “freedom” (I just had to put that into quotes), to the rise in political conservatism, especially of the modern conservative type? Certainly not by me, not in this post. roadrageAnd certainly not as the sole culprit, the…a-hem, a-hem…driving force behind a political movement.

It is a concept worth contemplating further, I believe. Look, at the political dynamics here in Toronto, amalgamated Toronto. Consider those areas of the city where the residents are more car dependent and underserved by public transit. Etobicoke, North York, Scarborough, for example. What wards do some of the most conservative city councillors represent, your Fords, Holydays, Minnan-Wongs, Norm Kellys? Where there is access to public transit and driving isn’t a necessity? Downtown, the old legacy city, essentially. That’s where you’ll find your most ardent left wingers, your Perks, Laytons and McConnells.

Coincidence? I don’t think so. Correlation versus causation? That’s a tougher nut to crack, for sure. But I do think the overlap between how we get around our city and how we view the city is an important angle to explore. asamatteroffact(It probably has been already, extensively, and I’m just behind in my reading.) When the most significant public space to you during the course of an average day is that spot where you can park your car cheaply, your politics may be vastly different than those of somebody looking for a nice quiet spot in the sunshine to have a bite to eat during their lunch hour.

curiously submitted by Cityslikr

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Thoughts From A One Time SUV Driver

May 2, 2016

For reasons I cannot divulge, I found myself behind the wheel of a mini-SUV this weekend. Mini-SUV. Jumbo shrimp.actnatural Rolling stop. Act naturally.

So, a couple observations from the driver’s seat. Which could warm your ass with the push of a button. Why would you ever not drive everywhere when it’s even the slightest bit chilly outside?

Early on in the trip, I was surprised by a pothole in the road ahead of me. I could’ve avoided it with a fairly safe swerve but not knowing the vehicle very well yet and how it might handle a swerve, I chose to take on the pothole directly. I mean, it wasn’t my truck mini-SUV. Any damage wouldn’t be on me or my credit card.

I didn’t feel a thing.

Are you kidding me? I hadn’t navigated a sinkhole but, holy shit, it was like a tank traversing a World War I era trench except smoother. So, in fact, nothing like that at all, a terrible analogy especially since I’ve never driven a tank over or around or into a World War I era trench. tankAn awful comparison. I should absolutely edit it but… That ride! So smooth and effortless. Who cares really?

I wondered exactly how big an object a mini-SUV could run over before a driver noticed. A squirrel? A cat? A dog? A toddler in a wagon? A cyclist? How about an actual, full on SUV? Would it crush a Smartcar under its wheels, drag it along for kilometres without so much a smattering of recognition by anyone pleasantly ensconced in the truck’s comfy, oblivious confines?

It’s not distracted driving, exactly. It’s driving unawares. Unaware of anything outside the bubble.

OK. Yeah, that’s distracted driving. But a designed distracted driving, encouraged by the ease of the vehicle you’re driving, designed so you don’t notice any of the unpleasantness of driving.dashboardgadgets

Compare that with sitting on the bus, if you manage to get a seat, feeling every bump and divet in the road under you. Or on your bike where avoiding that street crater means avoiding serious injury. Or just on your feet, walking, where danger lurks around every corner or up any alley. Stay vigilant to stay alive.

Drivers, on the other hand, all efforts are made to disconnect them with all other road users.

Bringing me to my second point.

Enabling such a sense of entitlement in drivers to disregard fellow travellers, also emboldens them, encourages aggressiveness. As a matter of fact, I do own the road. Just watch me.

I truly surprised myself with a couple of the manoeuvres I attempted while driving this mini-SUV. Sitting high up in my seat, looking down on much of the traffic, I nosed out pushily into lanes, seizing space that opened up for me – For Me! – while, probably, inconveniencing other drivers who had to slow down to allow me to ‘sneak’ in ahead of them. I say, ‘probably’ because I didn’t hear any squealing of brakes or angry honking of horns. luxuriousrideOf course, my windows were rolled up, the radio on, my buns warm, a toasty complacency upon me, so I might’ve missed any sort of negative feedback that was flashed my way. I know I would’ve been pissed if non-mini-SUV driving me had encountered mini-SUV driving me acting like such an asshole. Especially after having aggressively inserted myself into the left lane and immediately throwing on the left turn signal, blocking traffic even further. Hey! I signalled, didn’t I?

That’s the thing, right? By endeavouring to make driving easier, more pleasant, a veritable ass-heated stroll in the park, if you will, we’ve tapped into and egged on our inner asshole. “Why would he do that?” non-drivers often find themselves asking when subject to yet another asshole move by some asshole driver. Because they can. Because there are very few repercussions to their actions, aside from increased insurance premiums and occasional temper tantrums they engender.

Sure. Some motorists die but fewer than used to die. There’s the collateral damage, as well, the pedestrians and cyclists, yet rarely do drivers pay the true cost for their fault in causing the fatalities, for actually killing or injuring anybody. deathrace2000Unfortunate and unavoidable “accidents”, when all is said and done. They didn’t see that guy riding the bicycle there. The pedestrian unexpectedly stepped into the intersection as I was attempting to get through that stale yellow light. The kid was riding on the sidewalk.

The more we put drivers at ease, the more we put everyone else out on the street at risk. In a car, at the wheel, you don’t have to be looking at your phone to be distracted. As long as you feel insulated from everybody else around you on the road, that’s already more than enough lethal level of distraction.

driving-the-point-homely submitted by Cityslikr


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