Saturday, March 12, 2005

Phantom Stoplight

To begin with, I have never approved of driving. What has the automobile brought us? Nothing but trouble, that's what: Holes in the ozone layer. (More) War in the Middle East. Road rage. About seventy-five thousand new ways to die. And the Honda Element. Henry Ford, you have much to atone for.

Furthermore, there is the matter of the unemployed horses. Unlike wealthy showhorses, workhorses rely on a good economy. By taking away their prime employment, i.e. pulling us around, we're forcing the Amish and Budweiser to support the entire horse job market. Not to mention the societal danger of down-and-out horses loitering on streetcorners and getting into trouble. Any day now there is likely to be violent political upheaval if horses aren't kept occupied.

Besides, I think there is much to be said in favor of the stagecoach. The danger and excitement. The neat leather luggage with buckles. The fancy feathered hats. The rugged, dusty men. Think of the reading you could catch up on while someone else is driving. And since stagecoaches only travel through the old West and places ending in -shire, you're sure to see some great sights on your way to San Francisco or ----shire. Think how smart anyone can look in a coach-and-six.

My other favorite forms of transportation are bicycle/tandem, sloop, and camel, camel being basically the top of the list even above horses. You know what they say about camels. And so do I. But the main thing about these low-tech types of vehicles is that they don't come with rules. Your bike doesn't have an engine light. You don't have to get super unleaded wind for your sloop.

And the roads on which you travel in your coach-and-six don't have flashing red stoplights that you can see from two miles away and keep trying to stop at because you really can't judge distance in the dark and finally when you get used to the fact that no, this floating red stoplight does not exist except in your imagination like a rural suburban will-o'-the-whisp and you will be trying to stop at it for the rest of your life if you don't just accept its presence and move on, that's when suddenly BAM it's right there and you have to slam on your brakes so hard that if you had been on a camel, you'd have shot off over its head, and you think to yourself, of all the things in the world . . . why?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I think our mutual distaste for gas powered vehicles has sealed our friendship. nargh.