Waking The Dead 7

There is nothing so effective a teacher as consequences. But what a pyrrhic victory. Where lesson becomes also jailer, torturer and executioner. One would hope that there would be gentler means, but, alas, Gentle Reader, the gentlest way of teaching us our lessons involves such hard kicks in the ass that they could wind up killing us, and often they do. I was having coffee with a friend yesterday, who afterward offered me a ride partway home. I almost declined, partly because I wanted to walk around in the rich neighbourhoods and enjoy the Christmas lights on the big houses, and also for the exercise, and simply because I don't like riding in cars as they really are for me part of our larger problem of pollution, climate change, middle class selfishness and egoism and social isolation. However, we didn't have a very long visit and I did want to chat some more. Plus, I realised, there was work waiting for me at home and it needed to get done, so it would be better to arrive earlier, thanks to the convenience of my friend's car. This also gave me a little more insight into the mind of a car driver. Now, this is nothing at all against my friend, who is actually a very fine and respected individual. We were navigating traffic chaos as the huge windstorm had knocked out power in a lot of areas. We were talking about how drivers have to carefully negotiate with one another during power failures, as there are no operating traffic lights to keep everyone in line. We agreed that the four way stop is actually the most effective because everyone is forced to cooperate and, by the same token, coexist. I mentioned to my friend that having never owned a car is a rite of passage I do not regret missing in life. He did mention that he couldn't imagine being able to meet all his appointments and commitments by using public transit, and I didn't care to argue, mostly from good manners and also because what he said was making sense. But I also wondered later about expectations and timing. Could we, I wanted to ask him later, possibly pare down on our expectations and commitments? Is it possible that we expect too much of ourselves and each other. There is something confining about being inside a car. There are other people surrounding us but each is encased in their own metal contraptions. I mentioned to my friend that on public transit, we are always being taught how to coexist with one another, for example, how not to get someone's backpack shoved in your face, and the importance of communicating and being assertive with one another, and of how one can also end up making a new friend. It does happen sometimes. Car culture is toxic. It is very toxic. We are destroying the environment and, by extension, the planet and ourselves. We stay isolated from one another, and none of us seems willing to give up even a little bit of our pride and independence to actually be with one another as you must be while wedged on a bus seat next to an overweight stranger. Not very comfortable, maybe. But how about starting a conversation, if that person, or you, aren't so transfixed by your little phone, or your private music hall isn't turned up so loud that you can't even hear yourself fart? I think, or hope, that if they actually invest enough in transit to make it attractive and efficient and safe and comfortable, then more people will get out of their cars. I do not believe this is just wishful thinking. It actually has been working in many European cities. But the consequences, if we do not give up our cars and our precious independence and importance and stop polluting and stop endangering the planet, are unimaginable, but terrifying. And if that is what it is going to take for us to learn, then it is going to be too little too late. Pyrrhic victory.