We're officially sans automobile!

And it feels so good!

A. came by yesterday and gave us a half month's rent for our '97 sedan. We had to make up a bill of sale (MA's lemon law applies to private owners, too) and sign over the title and it was done. Finally! As I mentioned in an earlier post, we haven't driven it in more than a year and it was just sitting there in the driveway. A. hasn't driven off with it yet (it needs a new battery), but I think we should make a cake when he does.

It feels great. I always felt like owning and driving the car was a weight over my shoulders. It conflicted with my values, and now that I live somewhere that's not a cartropolis, I can get around sans auto. Sure, it takes a little longer to get there via mass transit and I can't sing at the top of my lungs with the windows rolled down, but it eases my guilt a bit.

Of course, we probably won't stay here forever. If we do move where there isn't mass transit, I'll look into a scooter, electric bike, Zip Car, or maybe a Smart Car. Hopefully by that point, cities will be trying to emulate Curitiba's public transportation systems and its other urban planning wonders, so we can all get around on mass transit.

For now, we're looking to buy a used bike. Preferably with a child seat for Bean (when she's older, of course). Any recommendations?

No mas car?

We might finally be getting rid of our car.

It has been sitting, just sitting, in the parking lot for more than a year now. We haven't touched it: it's been wonderful. We purposely chose to live near (almost in) the city, and pay higher rent as a result, so we could use public transportation. And now, without any action on our part, our landlord's friend is interested in buying it ... only he won't pick it up.

He came by right when Bean was born to look the Pontiac over, and in the two weeks that followed, he test drove it and negotiated the price with Hubby (technically it's his car, since he owned it before we even met). They agreed on a price, and now we're waiting, and waiting, and waiting, for him to pay up and drive off. I can't wait anymore. I've wanted to get rid of that car for longer than we stopped driving it. It's not even worth much, it's just the presence that bothers me.

Speaking of public transportation ...

I took the bus and subway at least four times each weekday for the duration of my pregnancy. And on the weekends, I often took mass transit even more frequently. Other than my feet, it's the principal way I got around. Guess how many people offered me their seat as my belly expanded and my feet swelled up? Just guess.

Four. No joke. These people in Boston are unbelievable. Unbelievable. I wouldn't think of not standing up for a pregnant woman. In fact, while pregnant, there were several times when I would stand up for a more pregnant woman--and meanwhile, the other passengers would just watch us. I particularly hated it when the riders would look at me and quickly look away. Like you don't have to stand up if you pretend I'm not there.

Other than the rude riders, I'm so relieved to solely be using mass transit, and finally (hopefully!) getting rid of this car. It makes me feel like I'm living my values, rather than just believing them.

Anthony Flint lecture

Wednesday night we went to see Anthony Flint speak at the Boston Public Library. I was interested in learning more about smart growth and New Urbanism, so his presentation was a little disappointing. He gave a basic overview, much of which I already knew: a restructuring of land use as an important tool for combating climate change; careful regional planning in addition to city planning (even so-called "mega-regional" planning, like the area from Boston to DC); retrofitting buildings and old first-suburban neighborhoods as LEED-ND; and mixed-use zoning. He did provide great examples, but I would have loved to hear more in-depth analysis. I suppose I'll have to read his book.

All of this smart growth strikes me as basically advocating this: let's do what the European cities have been doing for centuries -- build people-centered communities in our cities, where your social, financial, material, and dietary needs can be met within walking distance. Or at least biking distance. And I agree.

There were about 100 people in attendance, and the highlight by far was the question-and-answer session at the end. One woman asked how it was feasible to expect a resurgence to the city when all of the Boomers moving in kept bringing their cars with them. "We don't have the space for your car," she exclaimed. "We need that space to make the city livable!" His response was so trite that I can see why she left soon afterwards; Flint explained that although they are bringing their cars to the city, they are using them less while they're there and mass transit more, so it's still a good thing. He didn't even address the issue of space. Perhaps if Boston were a smaller town, a slow-city movement could work here. Still, what do you do when people hold on to their past when you're trying to advocate change? This applies to moving people into smaller spaces like cities as well as shifting consumption patterns for the green movement, and I thought her question was excellent, and needs to be explored.

Notice all the links in this post. Two reasons: I have paid time off right now and so more time to research, and I read this advice on why linking is important. I realize I may have gone a little overboard, but this topic excites me and I read about it a lot.

The whole lecture did reconfirm we should try as hard as we can to not sprawl after this baby is born, but we'll have to figure that one out. Boston and affordability haven't found their mix yet, so the nearly century-old wisdom that sprawl is more affordable still holds for this city.

Strangers staring

I was riding home on the subway today and doing my typical people-watching. The guy across the aisle from me caught my attention several times because he was an older teen and had that trendy cut that's basically ripped from British 70s pop stars. In an effort to call attention to this, or perhaps to shake the flies from his dirty locks, he kept swinging his head around like a dog shaking off water. Not only was I watching because that's what I do, but also because, well, he was moving a lot and he looked an awful lot like pictures of my older brother from the 70s.

A few minutes after my attention had focused elsewhere, I noticed a low grumbling that sounded distinctly like meanness. Meanness you know has a sound; it's that low tone with an evil level of volume meant to infiltrate your ears to the point where you hear it but you're not sure you heard it correctly. And the meanness was coming from Dog-Boy. At this point I was growing tired and had my eyes closed, but these are trashy tidbits I heard:

"... What the f@#k are you looking at? If you were ... "
" ... some people just have problems ... staring ... bitch!"
"Open your eyes, go on, so you can see the disrespect in my eyes ..."

Ahhh. Nice, right? I did nothing, just kept my eyes shut. I suppose this was a way out, but I was also thinking: What makes him so mad that someone was looking at him? Why is he so defensive? This must be that self-esteem issue everyone likes to use as a psychological answer. And, more importantly, didn't I use to feel like that when I caught someone looking at me? Don't I still feel that way sometimes?

Why do we feel like that when someone is watching us? What harm is there really if someone is watching us? I know that answer really depends on how you interpret the person watching, but then why should that matter?

So this Dog-Haired Boy made me think, and he also made me a little, well, defensive. I have every right to look. Especially when you're sitting directly across from me. I wasn't staring. I was watching. And, of course, I came up with comebacks to all of the little side comments he made. Which also made me angry. Why side comments? Why not just say it? And, again, but I do that sometimes too. Why do we do that?

It seems to me that it's all about fear.

Flash, boom, woo

I haven't fully adjusted to the new apartment or my new commute, but I could definitely get used to three-day weekends. It makes me feel more relaxed just knowing that I have an extra day to look forward to.

Hubby worked a Steve Vai concert this week ... apparently his fans are quite rude. One of hubby's coworkers asked an audience member on the balcony to stop taking pictures, and the man said "OK, thanks," and put his camera right in the employee's face, taking a flash picture. Of course this blinded the coworker and he had to stumble around to find his way to safety. What a jerk. It sickens me the way some people treat others. Really, I feel ill.

Took two extra hours to get home on Friday ... there was an explosion on the Red Line (no one was hurt), so I had to take a bus to another subway to get to the commuter train, to walk to another bus, and then take that to another bus, and then walk home. Whew. Of course I chose that day to take home an armful of paperwork and files.

Laborless Day

Headed up to Ipswich on Cape Ann yesterday, where we visited Russell Orchards and Crane Beach. We took the amiable Ipswich/Essex Explorer, a CATA shuttle from the train station to various points of interest, and learned this car-free method of accessing the North Shore may succumb to, you guessed it, government funding. Apparently those groggy folks in government can't see the benefit of removing thousands of cars from the streets and parking lots -- let alone the air -- in addition to the boon to local businesses. We learned all of this from a volunteer who coordinated the shuttle services, and we're looking to join the lobbying effort to keep the shuttle up and running.

Russell Orchards was quaint yet bustling. They had organic garlic for 95 cents per bunch, which we gobbled up, and delicious cold apple cider. It's probably a gorgeous destination in autumn, with hayrides, pick-your-own apples, and hot apple cider. We attempted to pick our own blackberries, but wound up a little confused at which were ready to be picked (city folk!). Tasting fruit wines (uck) and buying cheap dutch apple preserves was a bit more down our alley, although I had mixed feelings about supporting a farm that supports itself in part through butchering animals.

Crane Beach was relaxing, in spite of the crowds. We waded in to absolutely freezing water: it took 45 minutes to move myself from water at my feet to water at my shoulders. We didn't get a chance to learn more about the piping plover's rehab efforts within Crane's, but we will. We'll be back, if the CATA's funding cooperates.

Oh, and dinner: homemade vegan pizza with crumbled tofu, fresh pineapple, broccoli, and onions. Mhmmmm.