I spend a lot of time in my car. I am a commuter. When young, I didn’t understand how someone
could willingly submit to driving long distances to and from a job. I thought it was something that I would never
do, nor have to do.
Now, with over ten years of commuting experience behind me
(40 minutes each way covering about 32 miles—for a total of 65 miles and about
an hour and a half each day) I understand the reasons why I commute.
I made a choice not to live in the community that I work in. Duh. It’s
as simple as that. That is the only
reason why I have to drive every day. That is why my brand new car (was brand new) now
has 178,000 miles on it. That is why I
burn through two gallons of gas each day, having to fill up the tank once a
week. Commuting is not something that I
absolutely love to do, but actually, it’s not that bad. In fact, there are a great many positives to
having that time in my car.
My driving has made me a much more patient and thoughtful
person. I have time to muse over how my
day might go, and time to digest how my day went. I get to think, listen to music or N.P.R.,
and observe sunrises—and in the winter time, sunsets. Yesterday I got to witness mysterious dust
devils swirling in the corn fields. I
have a greater ability to focus and concentrate because of my daily commute,
and it allows me to decompress from stress, even though it can also add to
stress (especially when the weather is nice and I just want to be home). Perhaps I feel this way because I drive Plank
Road, a country highway that is Midwestern scenic and with very little
traffic. If I was stuck in bumper to
bumper expressway like when I lived in Oak Park I think I might be playing a
different fiddle tune. Call me lucky and
slap me silly, I s’pose!
Commuting is meditation for me essentially. I get in the driving “flow” and feel in
control and command of my destiny. I do
enjoy driving and road-trips, like the feeling of getting from point A to point
B, and enjoy the freedom of operating an automobile. Because I am so well-practiced in driving, I
feel like I am a “good” driver. Carly
might think I am a bit lax and not as vigilant as I should be, and there might
be some truth to that, but compared to the general class of drivers, I think I
am at the head of the class. I am no
longer an aggressive driver and don’t really speed. Maybe it’s my age, or maybe it’s because I’ve
finally wised up that the extra few minutes saved are not worth the risk. I understand that with all the miles I’ve driven
there is a tendency to zone out and become complacent, forgetting that driving
is a dangerous activity, becoming overconfident in my abilities thinking that I
am invincible like some superman of commuters.
I try to stay vigilant and aware of this trap because I do worry about accidents
and the hazards of the road.
In fact, I’ve been reminded recently just how quickly life
can change because of driving. On May 1st
I was one of the first on the scene of a bad accident between two SUV drivers,
right on the corner of Plank and 47 where the Shirdi Sai Temple (white church)
is located. The front ends were
completely smashed and crushed. I did
not see it happen, but I smelled the airbag dust, saw the stunned look on the face
of the driver who caused it, and dealt with the crying, painful grunts and
gasps of the passenger who was involved.
This big-bellied, middle-aged Mexican guy (why didn’t I ask him his name?)
must have broken some ribs or had internal damage because he was in some
serious pain. He had his seatbelt on and
there was a passenger airbag, but he was hurting as evidenced by the pressure
with which he squeezed my hand and the pain in his crying voice. I opened the mangled door, put my hand on his
shoulder and tried to calm him down, telling him to “breathe,” that “people are
on the way to help,” and that “everything is going to be ok.” I don’t know if he ended up “ok” because I
left after he calmed down and the police officers showed on the scene. I had a
class of students waiting for me and selfishly didn’t want to get stuck behind
the accident scene since I had parked right before it and thought the road
would get closed down. But, in my defense,
I didn’t think twice about getting out to help and I was calm during an intense
situation.
I think I helped. I
got quite the adrenaline buzz and even thought that I might make a good EMT or
something in a different life. It was
scary and I’m glad there was no blood or extreme-looking injuries. I’d like to think it wouldn’t have mattered,
but I think I would have been a lot more freaked out if I had to put pressure on
a bleeding wound or something. Driving
involves accidents and accidents can be life-altering/life-shattering. I think this particular accident was bad
enough to change these people’s lives forever, but hopefully not terrible
enough to leave permanent damage.
Being involved in my clavicle shattering accident woke me up
to the fact that life can change in an instant.
It’s not a cliché. You have to
understand that driving can lead to death or serious injury and you have to
keep that awareness close in order to stay safe on the roads. It’s hard when you are a commuter like me,
but seeing accidents like the one this May Day once again reinforces that
driving is a serious responsibility. I
take it seriously, and for the most part, I trust the people in the opposing
lane every day to stay on their side of the road. What a miracle this life is…until it is not…until
some sorry, regular person gets into an accident…
It really could happen to anyone without much fault or blame
resting on the person. Yeah, if you’re
texting and fiddling with stuff and zoning out, that’s mostly on you. I’ve been a bit freaked out at a few cyclists
that have been in the road that I saw, but just as easily could not have seen
and killed. Drifting onto the yellow
line is not hard to do, and how life would change if something terrible was to
happen. Thank you, thank you to the
powers that are looking after me and everyone else.
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