IN MY SHOES: My First Car … At The Age Of 48
Novelist Jane Alison, who teaches creative writing at the University of Miami, was a resolute commuter (“For three decades I refused to own a car. Not having enough money was one reason. … I didn't trust myself, either, in a huge speeding weapon.”) until the rigors and restrictions imposed by mass transit finally wore her down, as she explains in this Washington Post op-ed:
You just have to know schedules, wear proper shoes, and carry change and an umbrella. And build in an extra hour for travel. And never buy more than you can carry. …
In Providence, R.I., I'd march from the bus uphill, into icy wind; in New Orleans I'd step from the Saint Charles streetcar into puddles and splash home. I've stood wrapped in plastic bags waiting for the bus in a monsoon. …
You just have to plan, I'd say. Avoid parties, late meetings or jobs far from a bus. Don't take your cat to the vet unless he seems really sick. Don't go to the doctor yourself unless you're just about dying. If you can help it, don't have children. …
But then, as I waited recently in Miami for a bus that arrived 23 minutes late, the sun seemed actually to be melting my head. I grew increasingly limp as I gasped the fumes of cars zipping by. And I suddenly thought: To hell with this. … I want freedom and speed and insulation - to be a real American at last. …
So I bought a car. Online. …
As soon as I have the nerve, or need milk, I'll pick up the key and join the America on the other side of the windshield, the America that's [sic] always seemed so dangerous and wrong. … But after three decades of trying, I've given up. I'll go down, push start and join the other side at last.
Editorial Note: Having grown up in NYC, the mecca of mass transit, The Stiletto got her driver’s license about a dozen years after most Americans do, and then kept taking buses and subways for the same reasons as Alison did – and putting up with the same constraints (her advice about not buying more than you can carry really hit home). Even when she went to another city on a business or pleasure trip, The Stiletto took local buses (in Los Angeles, too!) rather than rent a car, so she could experience the city as the (non-driving) locals did – it was a point of pride that after briefly studying a bus or subway map she could give anyone who asked accurate directions to his or her destination in any city - and because at the time she wasn’t particularly confident in her driving skills.
The Stiletto was forced to start driving as part of her caregiving responsibilities when her elderly father hung up his keys for health reasons (her mother had never learned to drive), and the city to which they had retired had mass transit in theory only. It was exhilarating and liberating. The Stiletto can never go back to relying completely on public transit, and hopes that by the time she reaches her dotage someone will be mass producing a car that drives and parks itself – and doesn’t look like an alien spacecraft.
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