| Tuesday, April 26, 2005 |
| No blood for oil, I had mine converted to run on blood |
I have been known to drive in the past, I still have a driver's license in good standing, and from time to time I will still
rent a car.
The story goes like this:
I bought a brand-new car in 1994, while I lived in Wisconsin [where I was born and
raised]. Later on that year I moved to Oregon. I packed all of my things into a
U-Haul truck and moved out to the West coast. I left the car parked at
a friend’s house, I suppose with the intention of eventually
going back for it. I continued to make payments,
and kept the insurance up for 3 more years until
I had it paid off, but in the mean time, I realized
that I didn't need a car to live the kind
of life that I enjoyed. I
went back to Wisconsin,
and sold it for a
respectable amount to
some lucky dog who got
a practically brand-new
car for a low price.
That is why I don't have a car, because I don't need one.
There are some political aspects to car ownership and
upkeep that also rub me the wrong way, and I realize that in
polite society we don't discuss such things. We like to ignore
all of the obvious ills and real harm that come because it
is convenient to do so. Like I said, I understand that
not one single person in the world agrees with
me, and that I am best served when I shut up about
the whole thing.
Not having or needing a car is
different from the
reason I have for harboring a
real distaste for the milieu chosen and desired by
every single other person in the world. The reason for
that is that I am a bicyclist. I have ridden almost 40,000 miles in the last 22
years, and in that time I have been hit by cars a total of 9 times. Not one of
these incidences were my fault, but that does not change the fact
that a very specific and direct contact was made between my
chosen form of transportation and the one every single other
person in the world chooses. Some of these times, I have
been hit very, very hard, and it is a miracle that I have lived through it
other times it is a glancing blow that serves only as a
reminder of your place as a second class citizen.
Either way, I lead a good, healthy life, I am
more successful every year with the things
I am doing, I am doing it with a clear conscience, and I
have a tremendously positive attitude. I think I can attribute all of
these things to riding my bike. It is a part of me, as much as breathing, or eating. I
love it!The only time that I really think about it is when I meet new people, not yet
acclimated to my way of life. I remain positive, most of all alert, and I try not to judge
too harshly people in cars. A few years ago, I stopped talking to people while they were
in their cars, and still don't, I think that is fine. I had to reign myself back in when I stopped seeing
people inside those machines. I stopped seeing people when they were in their cars, and then I
stopped seeing people when they weren't in their cars, because I assumed that they had a car, even if
they weren't in it now, or they wanted a car if they didn't have one.
Everyone does.
Now I just see cars as slow-moving obstacles to society's progress, and the poor folks behind the wheel really as
nothing more than slaves to a machine that they do not understand, and a politics that no one would support if they
really thought about it.
I hope that this does not seem overly cynical. To me it is realistic. You should hear me go off when someone implies
that I don't have the right to ride my bike
["You are in the way."],
or implies that I am a bad citizen because I don't drive
["Did you get a DUI?"].
Then you will hear some venom.
rent a car.
The story goes like this:
I bought a brand-new car in 1994, while I lived in Wisconsin [where I was born and
raised]. Later on that year I moved to Oregon. I packed all of my things into a
U-Haul truck and moved out to the West coast. I left the car parked at
a friend’s house, I suppose with the intention of eventually
going back for it. I continued to make payments,
and kept the insurance up for 3 more years until
I had it paid off, but in the mean time, I realized
that I didn't need a car to live the kind
of life that I enjoyed. I
went back to Wisconsin,
and sold it for a
respectable amount to
some lucky dog who got
a practically brand-new
car for a low price.
That is why I don't have a car, because I don't need one.
There are some political aspects to car ownership and
upkeep that also rub me the wrong way, and I realize that in
polite society we don't discuss such things. We like to ignore
all of the obvious ills and real harm that come because it
is convenient to do so. Like I said, I understand that
not one single person in the world agrees with
me, and that I am best served when I shut up about
the whole thing.
Not having or needing a car is
different from the
reason I have for harboring a
real distaste for the milieu chosen and desired by
every single other person in the world. The reason for
that is that I am a bicyclist. I have ridden almost 40,000 miles in the last 22
years, and in that time I have been hit by cars a total of 9 times. Not one of
these incidences were my fault, but that does not change the fact
that a very specific and direct contact was made between my
chosen form of transportation and the one every single other
person in the world chooses. Some of these times, I have
been hit very, very hard, and it is a miracle that I have lived through it
other times it is a glancing blow that serves only as a
reminder of your place as a second class citizen.
Either way, I lead a good, healthy life, I am
more successful every year with the things
I am doing, I am doing it with a clear conscience, and I
have a tremendously positive attitude. I think I can attribute all of
these things to riding my bike. It is a part of me, as much as breathing, or eating. I
love it!The only time that I really think about it is when I meet new people, not yet
acclimated to my way of life. I remain positive, most of all alert, and I try not to judge
too harshly people in cars. A few years ago, I stopped talking to people while they were
in their cars, and still don't, I think that is fine. I had to reign myself back in when I stopped seeing
people inside those machines. I stopped seeing people when they were in their cars, and then I
stopped seeing people when they weren't in their cars, because I assumed that they had a car, even if
they weren't in it now, or they wanted a car if they didn't have one.
Everyone does.
Now I just see cars as slow-moving obstacles to society's progress, and the poor folks behind the wheel really as
nothing more than slaves to a machine that they do not understand, and a politics that no one would support if they
really thought about it.
I hope that this does not seem overly cynical. To me it is realistic. You should hear me go off when someone implies
that I don't have the right to ride my bike
["You are in the way."],
or implies that I am a bad citizen because I don't drive
["Did you get a DUI?"].
Then you will hear some venom.