For the May blogging blitz, I have decided to write about life at 40. Mid-life crisis monologues, perhaps.
On Norris Avenue in Kensington, I have seen plaques pop up encouraging people to abandon their cars and walk, bike or use public transportation instead. WALK, BIKE, RIDE, the messages implore. Flat on the sidewalk. They are preaching to the converted, I think, as only a pedestrian could see them. I'm disappointed that there is no website posted because I want to write and say, "I'm one of you. Please put me on your mailing list and invite me to your parties. I'm single and looking, by the way."
I have not owned a car since 1992 and have used my feet, bikes, buses and subways ever since. I don't miss using a car, in fact, I let my driver's license lapse.
Okay, I guess I should be glad that I am not polluting the air. But I feel like an accidental activist in this area. I simply don't like cars.
But truly this isn't a political choice, it's a personal one. I don't feel like I have surrendered a luxury, I feel like I escaped a commodity I have no use for. I don't think I'm noble, I feel eccentric.