…on March 23, 2003. The following is a memory, though only a few things have changed: Shock and Awe is history, though bombs are still exploding in Iraq; the local Krispy Kreme folded a year ago or so (good riddance); most days I hop on the VIVA (long may it run!). The intertwined issues of development, energy and transporation are just as perplexing as ever. Same as it ever was:
The morning after the Americans started dropping bombs on Iraq, I woke up to my daily conundrum: how to get to work. It sounds absurd. My life is ruled by routine in so many ways, but I can not settle on a single, preferred method of transporting my carcass to and from work. It all started four years ago when I turned in my parking permit after a price increase made busing more economical than parking. So now, depending on the time of year and the schedule of the day, I may take a bus, a bike, a train, a car, walk or rely on the kindness of friends. During the worst winter storms, I’m happy to share a taxi if one can be hired.
But on the morning after the Shock and Awe campaign began, I thought I might drive. I hadn’t started the old wreck for a few days, and was thinking about the fact that it was overdue for brake work. Braking was not going to be a problem though, because on this particular morning the engine cranked but would not catch. “No problem”, I decide, “I’ll hop on the Vaughan bus.” But as I close the car door I see the #4 pulling away from the corner. “No worries”, says I. “I’ll just walk up to Yonge and catch a GO bus south to Steeles.” Seven minutes later, I see the “C” bus crossing the Yonge and Major Mac intersection — the bus is kitty-corner to where I’m standing, waiting for the light to change. An SUV honks loudly and I’m startled to see an old Chinese man crossing against the red, causing the SUV to miss the left-turn arrow. The old man is stranded on the traffic island for a few minutes until the lights change once more. He seems relieved when the small tide of pedestrians, me among them, catches up. But the “C” bus is long gone by the time I get to the corner, so I decide to walk a few stops along Yonge until the next one shows up.
You can see a long way from the summit of Richmond Hill, but all I see is a continuous line of bumper-to-bumper tail lights snaking their way southward through the morning haze. I follow at a brisk pace, past Block Busters, past the Krispy Kreme where another line of cars idles and puffs in anticipation of coffee and sugar. Now my current plan is to hoof it to 16th Avenue and catch a Vaughan 85 bus west to Keele. The 85s don’t run as often however and I wait 15 minutes for the next one. But, it’s an 85A and only goes as far as Bathurst. The morning’s happy-go-lucky sheen is beginning to oxidize as I realize how late I’m going to be. I notice that i have subconsciously started counting the number of cars, vans and SUVs with just one occupant. If my car had only started, I know I would have counted myself among them. Mostly, I just want to get away from the noise and out of this air. I take two minutes respite at the closest Tim Horton’s and resolve to wait for the next “C” bus. It arrives within the minute and chugs down Yonge, lurching to a halt at every stop along the way.
As we bump along, I keep thinking about Iraq and North Korea, about oil and SUVs, water and the Oak Ridges Moraine, brown-outs and dozens of recently approved housing projects. I remember that the Pickering nuclear plant underwent an emergency shutdown on or about the same day our provincial government announced they would not recall the legislature. All of these items seem to be interwoven, but I can’t seem to make sense of it, can’t make the necessary connections. I’m too overwhelmed by a mental picture of the throbbing red arteries and veins of tail lights that flow in and out of this city every day. And when the Steeles West bus appears just as I step on to the sidewalk, it feels like the only thing that has connected all morning.
Environment, Transportation
While perusing energy.buzz today, I learned that some SUV owners are so completely fed up with the cost of driving these behomoths they are cutting their losses by setting them on fire to collect hefty insurance settlements. It is shocking and sad to think these owners would commit insurance fraud — especially when it has only been a few months since the PenOpticon launched its widely acclaimed Save the SUVs campaign. Give it a chance people! Ya try to be helpful, but some folks just like to play with fire, I reckon. Anyhow, this was all news to me today, but it seems this story has been plastered across the net for a few weeks. Here is a smattering of stories covering this, um, burning issue:
Whether it is better to immolate your SUV’s mortal ignition coil now or suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous gas prices for a few more years is a question that depends on your religious outlook. In other words, the burning question for some is “What would Jesus drive?”. This issue has been debated hotly ever since the Reverend Jim Ball launched the WWJD tour in 2003 and a group of happy-go-lucky (gruntled?) SUV enthusiasts countered by promoting their own personal Jesús Rivera (who drives an SUV). So it’s a complicated issue, I’m sure, but if you dig a little deeper, you may find this very helpful scholarly discussion of the topic. Me? I’ll stick with my million-dollar Viva limo for the foreseeable future.
Now that the Hauptbahnhof – 
