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Americans and our love affairs with our cars. What is it about these
expensive, unreliable, dangerous vehicles that causes us to adore and even
worship them? Is it their role as a status symbol? Is it that we live in
such an overcrowded planet that we need the barrier of solitude inside our
cars? Or is it our need to be in control of everything -- from the speed we
go, to where we go, to the radio station we listen to as we go? Whatever
the reason, it's a love affair that's killing us.
When I was in junior high, we lived just under the distance to get the bus
and just over a reasonable walking distance to school. So at 13 years old,
my only option was to ride my bike. Going through puberty is hard enough
without having to arrive at school with matted hair and sweaty clothes. No
"cool" girl road her bike and I knew no "cool" guy would turn his head at me
as I struggled up the hill. (Ironically, the men I now date are impressed
with my love of biking.) As soon as I turned 16, the bike was thrown into
the back of the garage and the car became my sole method of travel. We all
remember that moment -- African tribes have a rite of adulthood, Americans
have "pass the car keys over" ceremony.
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