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liveonearthI just got back from a yoga class, to which I drove my truck. Driving anywhere is still strange to me. For the last year my truck was not registered. For several years before that it was registered, but I barely managed to start it up once a week. I ride my bike. I use public transportation. I walk. I have an aversion to the automobile. I think it is part of our demise. And yet, I drive. I just drove all the way to AZ and back. And it was a blessing.
Right now I don't have a trimet bus pass, because school is not in session. When I don't have a pass, the bus seems sort of pricey. A couple bucks, maybe three. Enough that I'd rather bike or drive than pay to ride the bus. The bus isn't always pleasant. During non-commuter hours it is full of the lowest rung of local society, the homeless, the drug addicted, the skinny tattooed men with guitars, the toothless cigarette-smoking shouting fat mothers and their unruly children, the middle aged men carrying trash bags full of cans that they've collected from richer people's trash. It's not easy to have a civil conversation with this population, believe me, I've tried.
Even when I lived in Flagstaff, I used my bike to go everywhere. My truck was reserved for more distant trips to rivers and mountains. I rode into town for yoga classes, and groceries. I commuted to work daily, aggressively, for time. I chose my home location such that I could avoid using the truck. I felt good knowing it was there, and felt great when I didn't need it.
Here in Portland I've done the same thing. I live close to the center of the city, where I can catch public transportation to almost anywhere. Everything I need to survive and get through school is within one mile of here. This is intentional on my part, it is not an accident. A large part of my choice to come to Portland is the city's reputation as a bicycle commuter's haven, a green progressive place.
But when my truck wasn't registered, I felt trapped here. I didn't like that the public transport doesn't go to wilderness. It goes to cities, not to mountains and rivers. I found it depressing. I am glad that I have the ability now to go to the mountains at will. I am grateful to Bill. He fixed my truck when all the other mechanics had written it off. He has an appreciation for simple functional durable machinery.
Right now I don't have a trimet bus pass, because school is not in session. When I don't have a pass, the bus seems sort of pricey. A couple bucks, maybe three. Enough that I'd rather bike or drive than pay to ride the bus. The bus isn't always pleasant. During non-commuter hours it is full of the lowest rung of local society, the homeless, the drug addicted, the skinny tattooed men with guitars, the toothless cigarette-smoking shouting fat mothers and their unruly children, the middle aged men carrying trash bags full of cans that they've collected from richer people's trash. It's not easy to have a civil conversation with this population, believe me, I've tried.
Even when I lived in Flagstaff, I used my bike to go everywhere. My truck was reserved for more distant trips to rivers and mountains. I rode into town for yoga classes, and groceries. I commuted to work daily, aggressively, for time. I chose my home location such that I could avoid using the truck. I felt good knowing it was there, and felt great when I didn't need it.
Here in Portland I've done the same thing. I live close to the center of the city, where I can catch public transportation to almost anywhere. Everything I need to survive and get through school is within one mile of here. This is intentional on my part, it is not an accident. A large part of my choice to come to Portland is the city's reputation as a bicycle commuter's haven, a green progressive place.
But when my truck wasn't registered, I felt trapped here. I didn't like that the public transport doesn't go to wilderness. It goes to cities, not to mountains and rivers. I found it depressing. I am glad that I have the ability now to go to the mountains at will. I am grateful to Bill. He fixed my truck when all the other mechanics had written it off. He has an appreciation for simple functional durable machinery.
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no subject
Date: 2010-08-16 11:09 pm (UTC)maybe they sensed your judgment? I don't know, but w/ the hierarchy in humanity view it seems that you may be the one distancing yourself from others. I taught university courses and worked at a homeless shelter at the same time and could just as easily speak w/ both populations, I think it's a matter of understanding different perspectives.
Maybe you were just being funny and I'm overly sensitive, but I just cringe when I hear people marginalize populations or individuals and want to speak up to counter it.
I really appreciate and enjoy reading your posts and I'm grateful to have you as a LJ friend. I'm not upset, I'm just interested in learning more about your perspective as well and so I like to state when I disagree - is that cool w/ you?
no subject
Date: 2010-08-17 01:26 am (UTC)I recognize that by lumping any group of people as a "population" I am likely to offend someone. So I will attempt to remain polite while I point out that you are making a big assumption about me and my point of view.
Seems like everybody is sensitive these days.
no subject
Date: 2010-08-17 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-17 01:41 am (UTC)