Back at the Wheel

The dismal particulars of not having a car at my disposal sunk in over the weeks I was without one.

It had been such a great idea: Wait to replace my old beater that had given up the ghost. Save money during a time when COVID lockdown and winter weather conspired so that I barely traveled anywhere. The grocery store: once every three or four days. One client’s office: every couple of weeks. The other client: once a month to retrieve a payment. My chiropractor—once a month. Between county buses and Uber I should be able to wait until well into late Spring or even Summer, saving up for a better vehicle along the way.

But here was the final tally: Injuring myself trying to drag luggage up and down subway steps in Manhattan at Thanksgiving; foregoing that and hailing cabs instead at Christmas for a costly ride; falling and skinning my knee at the Broome County Transit Hub, sciatic pain climbing onto and off of buses despite the helpful “bus-kneeling” courtesy mechanism; the anxiety of dealing with quirky bus schedules, quirky drivers and quirky weather patterns. And, finally, the expense of just saying “to heck with it,” and continuously relying on Uber to get where I needed to go.

The score so far? Public Transit: 6. Me: 0. And I’d lost a glove.

I had finally asked one client, the radio station’s owner, if I could borrow the station SUV to get a few errands done and he generously told me to use it as long as I needed, which was a convenience I appreciated more than I let on.

Then, just before Christmas, our historic blizzard dumped that record-breaking four feet of snow on Greater Binghamton. We made the national news. Nobody went anywhere for the better part of a week. A cold snap followed and turned the mush on the streets to ice and the smooth surface of the highways into deadly patches of black ice.

A colleague at the radio station ended up crashing his car on that ice and I willingly gave up my temporary claim on the station SUV. My reward was the comfort of watching him shovel it out from under 48 inches of snow instead of having to do it myself. Then, carless again.

One evening not long after, I was low on provisions and determined to venture out to the convenience store at the gas station just up the street. It was tricky navigating mounds of snow that looked like ice forts and trying not to step into deep puddles of melting slush even for the few blocks I needed to walk. I had piled on layers and pulled my hood up. Anyone who saw me would have thought they were watching a 103-year old goose-down-covered-lump who hadn’t quite mastered this walking-thing as I inched and side-stepped up the street in an excruciatingly slow crab-like zig-zag.

After my searing hip-pain experience I was reluctant to subject myself to the torment of bus transportation again. Uber and its phone app were just too seductive. But the holidays, the fact that the college students were on break and not around and the blizzard meant fewer drivers in town. I began to tire of the times the message “No drivers available” flashed onto my screen. Or the trips where the cost had gone up to reflect peak demand.

It seemed like too much hard work just to pick up a few groceries or arrive on time at a downtown appointment. All the simple trips I didn’t even think about when I had a car exhausted me just in the planning when I was without one.

I finally relented to the message the universe had been sending and asked my mechanic to keep watch for a possible replacement beater—a reliable one yet within my fairly sparse budget. He called the second week of January with good news.

It took me only a cursory glance at it to say “Yes.” I didn’t even take a test-drive. I almost bought it sight unseen.

The upshot: I had my new-to-me 2005 Ford Taurus street-legal and on the road by the third week in January. It had only been eight weeks since I got rid of my Monte Carlo, but it had unfolded like eight months and I felt every second of it.

I remember one of the early conclusions I’d come to when I’d first set up residence in Broome County more than four decades ago: You can’t go anywhere without a car.

I guess I gave that truth a workout, but in the end, I’d had to admit it that was still exactly the case.

I still believe wholeheartedly in public transportation. It’s good for the environment and good for the economic development of a geographic locale. It can be cost-effective, provide exercise and fresh air and impart a sense of community.

But when the temperature is 5 degrees, it’s dark and you’re surrounded by impromptu ice sculptures just waiting to send you to the emergency room and you’re out of milk for tea…it’s nice to jump into your personal transportation pod, turn on the heater and be back at home before the fire, sitting wrapped in a cozy blanket sipping said cup of tea all in the space of 20 minutes.

Lofty Concept, may I introduce you to Brutal Reality? I think you two have some things to work out.