Dave Alpert: I Know Where You’re Going with That

You can say that again…

Seeing this almost inspired me to plan a cross-country trip to vandalize every Love ST in the country.  Well done… whoever you are.

I rarely speed.  It’s not that I’m particularly law abiding or that I’m intentionally conserving fossil fuels.  It’s partially that  I know the extra 10 mph won’t make much of a difference in my drive time.  But, mostly, it’s that as a freelance writer, I am constantly broke.  So, I can’t afford a moving violation (or even a parking ticket for that matter).  Now, because I do drive the speed limit, I am keenly aware of all the super agressive driving around me.  At times, I’m even the victim of that agression.  So, I wasn’t surprised when a guy came whipping up behind me in the slow lane on Soldier’s Field Road, made an aggressive move to get around me, shot me a dirty look and then sped far ahead.  However, I was a little surprised and particularly amused that the guy was driving a Toyota Prius.

It would seem to me that the main reason people buy hybrid cars is for the better gas mileage.  The reasons people want better gas mileage is to reduce their “carbon footprint” and cut costs.  Many of my composting, recycling, solar panel owning, MASSPIRG volunteering friends drive them.  Anyway, it got me thinking about whether an aggressive hybrid driver is more damaging to the environment than a non-aggressive driver of a regular car–thus my amusement.

 VS
Ford Focus                                                                  Toyota Prius

After researching a little bit, I was delighted to find this Edmunds article discussing fuel efficiency.  According to their test results, non-aggressive drivers save 31% on milieage on average; non-speeders save an additional 12%.  So, the Prius guy that slammed on his brakes, whipped around me and then stepped on the gas again potentially burns over 40% more fuel while only saving about 20% due to the environment friendliness of his car.  Thus, the guy may still burn 20% more fuel than a guy with a regular old Ford Focus or something. 

The author of the article even mentions hybrids in discussing the results:

Our tests showed that the most significant way to save gas is: you. And we’re talking massive fuel economy gains. Think you need a hybrid? Chances are you’ve got hybrid-style mileage in your gas pedal foot.

Attention Mr. Fancypants Prius driver: Greenpeace wants their membership card back!

A few weeks ago, I was driving through Watertown with my roommate, drummer, and man-about-town–Chris Anzalone.  The car in front of us had a vanity license plate that just said “PASHI”.  So, as we drove, we let our imaginations run wild.  In our heads, Pashi was some sort of anti-Fonzie.  You know.  The Fonz from Happy Days…

While The Fonz was cool, got all the girls, helped his friends out of any situation, Pashi is the exact opposite.  Pashi can’t get laid to save his life, tries to be smooth but comes off as smarmy, and he’s entirely oblivious to the people around him.  “Ayyyy.  It’s Pashi!” I guess in my head, Pashi also kind of looks like Beni, the wimpy thief from the 1999 version of The Mummy.

So, you may be wondering why I’m sharing this tale of 2 juvenile musicians concocting stories about some fictitious character named Pashi.  Well, as opposed to Fonzie, who rode a motorcycle, Pashi drives a station wagon.  And just today, I spied Pashi again–this time turning into the 7-11 in Watertown.

Ay, It’s Pashi!

So, who is this man of mystery?

Crossing the Mass Ave Bridge is a pleasant experience.  The views on both sides are beautiful, reminding me of why I love living in Boston.  Heading to Cambridge yesterday, I turned to check out the Charles and the skyline, and this is what I saw…

Okay.  Forget the girl in the orange for a second.  See the buildings in the back right?  Well, it wasn’t foggy out; it wasn’t raining either.  That blur is due to the particulary juicy grease spot on the window.  I never knew human heads could create that much oil.  I mean, forget bio-diesel; forget recycled vegetable oil.  I bet we could run the entire public transportation system just on the human oils stuck to the windows.  We could lead the country in eco-fuel–powered by the people, for the people.  We could cut fares in half, too.  After all, we’re supplying all the gas.  Think about it, MBTA! 

Still… YUCK!

So, I saw Chuck last night who informed me of another hate crime during that fateful Sally O’Briens show on July 5th.  I told him that I’ve been getting some good laughs out of the story, and he replied, “Did I ever tell you about the second part?  What happened next?”  I hadn’t heard this.

Apparently, there was a couple across from him from South America.  They, in fact, did hear me say “American songs”.  But the man erruped in anger, saying, “What?!  And I am NOT an American???”  So much anger!

After a tiny bit of research, I would say that the concensus in 2008 is that “American” refers to something or someone from the United States of America.  And even in its etymology, America is named after Amerigo Vespucci, the famed Italian explorer who supposedly was one of the first to reach the “New World”.  Imagine if I had said, “I’m gonna start off by playing some ‘new world’ songs.”  The whole frigging room would have been gunning for me!  “WHAT?!  I am from a different world???? Kill!  KILL!!!”

In Boston, bicyclists and motorists have a very contentious relationship to say the least.  Even though I do own a car, I would characterize myself as a T riding pedestrian.  Nevertheless, I’ve thought about this topic quite a bit, and I’ve come to this conclusion: it’s not that motorists are assholes; it’s not that bicyclists are assholes.  It’s that Americans are assholes.

It’s not our fault really.  From the days of the frontier, the expansion west and Theodore Roosevelt’s “rough individualism”, our society has been built on a culture of unabashed selfishness. 

My interest in this topic was re-awakened by reading this article on Universal Hub which is followed by 2 pages of some of the most acrimonious comments I’ve ever read.  I have to admit; my loyalties lie firmly with the motorists.  You see, while motorists are just assholes, bicyclists are self-rightous assholes.  They walk around with this moral indignation and an air of moral superiority based on the fact that they use less fossil fuels, excercise more and that they have the short end of the stick because city planners don’t always have their interests in mind.

I would argue, however, that even if Boston had the most bicycle friendly streets in the US, it would make no difference.  Bikers ride on pedestrian sidewalks, blow through red lights and stop signs (always), ride down one-way streets the wrong way and sometimes ride against traffic, instead of with it.  Why?  Because they can.  No one stops them.  And if the city caved  to every bicyclist demand, they would still do it.  This brings us back to my point about the wild west.  Bicyclists get off on the thrill of blowing through intersections not knowing whether they are going to live or die.  That’s part of the fun; that’s part of our culture.  It’s not as if, suddenly Boston bikers would start looking like this:

Bicyclists in Amsterdam (Photo credit: AndrewLove.org)

No. Boston bicyclists would continue to be drug-crazed savages sitting in coffee shops wearing torn pants, bloody knees and chipped teeth like badges of honor as they tell stories of the best diggers, car accidents and pedestrian flattenings they were involved in.

One of the comments on the Universal Hub post links to Massachusetts Bicycle Law on the massbike.org site.  They want to arm bicyclists with knowledge in the fight for the streets of the city.  While it makes for an interesting read, the problem is that laws don’t inform as to how you should act; they inform about what you can get away with.  Bicyclists should follow the same rules of the road–even if they don’t have to.  Motorists should be more considerate and share the roads.  Pedestrians should wait for the “walk” light and not prevent motorists from making a left turn when they are at a green arrow lasting for 3 seconds.  Joggers shouldn’t run on the busiest streets in the city, careening into me on my way home from work.  But we’re all too busy getting away with whatever we can.  And this is what makes this country great.  We are all truly equal–even if just by virtue of our collective selfishness.

Who would have thought that a few bloggers could exact change in this town?!  But I rode by MIT today, and a few days after our posts, the 2nd pair of yellow lines has been painted black.  It made this blogger feel pretty damn good! Cambridge is now safe once again.

Being poor is getting really old.  But I think I found a way out.  So, in the words of Cartman from South Park, “Screw you guys.  I’m going home!”  Here’s my meal ticket right here…

If you look really closely, you can see Virgin Mary’s visage in the strawberry–a Maryberry.  And I’m going to sell this thing on eBay.  Then, I’m going to pay back all my debts and bar tabs, grab the guitar and hit the road.  Ah, if life were only that simple. 

In the meantime, I guess I’ll have to live off of the huge checks rolling in because the Peace of Mind ringtone available on music.com IS all the rage.  Anyway, if you can’t wait for the eBay auction, you can “buy it now” for only $50,000.  Who wouldn’t want to be that much closer to God?

You’ve all heard me rant about how mountain climbers are selfish bitches disguised as fitness enthusiasts.  Well, guess what?  The selfish bitches struck again!  Again, climbers got stranded–in the dead of winter–on Mt. Hood in Oregon.  This time, they didn’t die.

According to the article:

The three, two women a man and a man in their 30s, were fed hot food and given warm clothing before being led down the mountain with their dog, a black Labrador named Velvet.

Personally, I’m interested in whether they were slipped a bill for their Happy Meals and the can of Alpo they ate.  And maybe another bill for the rescuers… And another bill for the use of the rescue vehicles… And another bill for all the gas…  And I wish they’d send me their addresses, so I, too, can send a bill for the time it took for me to read about their dumb climber asses.

Oh, and let’s not forget poor Velvet the dog.  According to this article, the three climbers used the dog as a heat source:

Searchers credited the group’s rescue to two things — Velvet, a black Labrador mix who provided warmth as the three climbers huddled under sleeping bags and a tarp, and the activation of an emergency radio beacon the size of a sunglasses case that guided them to the group.

Thank goodness the rescuers found these climbers quickly.  Otherwise, I fear we would have had to read about Velvet being used as a food source as well.

And why aren’t climbers required to buy some sort of climbing insurance–a fund that would pay for rescues??  Or better yet, why can’t we just let them DIE???

At first glance, this seems like a lazy blog post.  Every person that visits Boston likes to wax philisophical about in-town driving.  For sure, Boston drivers have a reputation worldwide for being pretty bad.  Frankly, I’m sick of hearing it.  I disagree, or at least I feel that there are valid reasons for Boston drivers to be slightly aggressive and short-tempered.

A Perfect Storm of Pain
Boston roadways are a perfect storm of poorly marked streets, poorly kept infrastructure and a changing population that has no idea where its going. 

In the Boston area, while side streets are marked, main roads are not.  Is this Broadway?  Can you tell me where Highland Ave is? (You’re on it.)  People are constantly rubber necking looking for where they are and where they should go.  This causes bottlenecks, traffic jams and fender benders.

New England winters are brutal.  They are hard on us and even harder on the roads.  Roads are either full of potholes and in need of repair or being worked on for weeks on end.  This, too, makes Boston a difficult town to navigate.

Perhaps the biggest problem, however, is that with a student population of over 200,000, there is a constantly changing cast of characters that by no fault of their own have no idea where they are going.  Anyone who has ever started a new job knows the challenges of being a newbie.  You don’t know where things are, what to do and you can’t yet know the culture and customs specific to the job.  That being said, the only thing worse than being new is being a seasoned veteran stuck in a sea of newcomers.  Most of us have felt the rage and stress of being put on a shift full of untrained amateurs.  Strangely, the most infuriating experience in this city is knowing EXACTLY where you’re going, and knowing that you’re going to have to run a gauntlet of idiots to get there.  Inevitably, you lose patience and start pulling dick moves to get through.  Knowing that it’s going to take you 30 minutes to go a few blocks can make you quite short-tempered and violent.

So, next time you think the critics are right and that we Boston drivers suck, think back to that scene in Good Will Hunting when Robin Williams says, “It’s not your fault.  It’s not your fault.  It’s not your fault.”  Indeed, it’s not our fault.