It occurs to me, after eight solid years in New York, that its world-class transportation system has
It occurs to me, after eight solid years in New York, that its world-class transportation system has an infantilizing effect upon a would-be driver. I’ve never had to change a tire here. I don’t often check myself from drinking to excess, as it’s rarely necessary to get behind the wheel at the end of the night.The city streets, clogged with cars, are just narrow veins of anemic asphalt in the compact grid. Drivers are frustrated, hemmed in on all sides. No autonomy, no chance for speedy thrill.NYC’s streets are nothing like the multi-lane roads of the outlands, despite being poured from identical stuff.I came of age in New Jersey. Driving there, as often as not, meant making your own way. That is to say, I got lost a lot. One of my greatest humiliations: a posse of friends and I had shown up to a cash-only bowling alley whose ATM was out of order. I decided to hit the nearest one, across the highway. I took off alone in my parents’ janky red Ford Windstar minivan, expecting an intuitive route to and from. Ten minutes later, I was swerving through traffic in a barren part of town I’d never seen, cursing myself steadily… -- source link