Adapting, at 53

Today marks my 21st day without driving.  I both miss it and don't.  I always wanted to live in a town that had sufficient public transportation that driving wasn't necessary, but Austin is not that town.  I have been driving since I was 15 years old.  That was stupid-young to drive.  I was never an unsafe driver, but at 15 I had no concept of cars or how to keep them from catching fire on MoPac in rush hour traffic.  Turns out the answer to that is "oil".  I only had that Celica for a month before our relationship ended, literally in flames.  My next car (a Toyota Starlet) lasted much longer, from 15 all the way through college.  The Toyota Starlet was the prequel to the Tercel, but had a cooler name.  It was a little hatchback with a surprising capacity.  It was big enough to accommodate my frequent moves in college, but small enough that others didn't ask me to help them move.  That was the little car that could.  My friend Lisa had a Honda Civic (same general concept) that we used to take on ski trips.  I think she drove that car for 300,000 miles, gave it to her brother, and I imagine it is still on the road somewhere, plugging along.

I do miss that Starlet.  As well as the Red Celica with a stupid, hand-made rubber spoiler that followed.  All cars since have been practical - sensible Mazda's, a Corolla, a Camry, and a handful of cars named either "Blue Vanny" or "Grey Vanny".  Yes, I am waxing nostalgic on the cars of my life, now that I don't drive.

I can only think of one time in my life where I likely went three or more weeks without driving, and that was the six week trip to Europe with Kenneth in college.  We traveled the continent through a combination of trains, ferries, hitch-hiking, and even a hovercraft.

I do find that I have absolutely no stress in traffic these days.  I am definitely a mellow passenger.  Jill takes me to work, and we listen to NPR.  I am figuring out the commute home, through a combination of friends, children (my children), and Lyft.  Abby picked me up yesterday (in my car) and explained the music rules - I can skip a song on the playlist, but we are listening to her playlist.  I think she's still a little upset about the ever-changing presets.  Not sure what's going on there.

Not being able to drive changes so many things.  There is a coffee shop near my office.  The other day, I wanted to get some coffee in the afternoon.  It's much nearer by car.  Certainly, the 1.8 mile round trip walk is good for me, but I'm not sure I'll want to make that walk in 100 degree June weather.  I bring my lunch, or plan to pick up something at the taco truck next door.  And I am having more lunch dates these days with family and friends.

I can't just run out to errands to get my dry cleaning, run by Walgreens, or buy groceries.  This requires planning.  Jill and I spend more amazing quality time together, commuting, shopping, and visiting a wide variety of doctors.  She is the love of my life and I couldn't go through any of this without her. 

I did find one limit to our new togetherness.  I shop for our groceries.  Jill certainly has say over what I buy, but in 22+ years of marriage, that has been more "please don't buy any more ___" or "it would be great if we had some vegetables."  You know - constructive feedback aimed at future behavior change.  I am a solo grocery shopper.  I enjoy doing it, and don't understand the new trend of having others shop for you.  So, I am not used to getting that feedback IRT (in real time).  Like, "put that back, you keep buying too much milk" or "no, just no."  I do realize that this is a minor complaint.  And in case you are now worried that my wonderful wife will just stop taking me grocery shopping...honestly, who does that punish?

I'd like to think this has lowered my carbon footprint, but since the twins are keeping Mazda 5 in service, probably that's a net zero there.  I'm helping the planet, but the Smith family, as a whole, is about where we were. 

So I am adapting.  And wearing hats.  And about to start radiation.  And doing a lot of reflection.  Apparently about the cars that have been special in my life.