Behind the Wheel

Earlier this week, I achieved a mini milestone in my driving career. I drove myself out of Elmhurst, Queens and up to Western Massachusetts early Tuesday morning. The journey was shy of three hours. As a traveler, I've always enjoyed mobility. As a person who grew up on mass transportation, I never really drove. Getting my license didn't mean much. I didn't touch a steering wheel for years at a time. Well, this summer I was sort of pushed into the whole business of driving. The build up has been gradual. The commute to work is less than five minutes in the car. The town to the south where the supermarkets and movie theater are is about ten minutes away. The town to the north where there is good sushi is a good 20 minutes up. The train station is one hour away, and it's what I've been using to go home. I drive to the station, park, get on the train and commute back to NYC. It's what I'm good at.

I've been here for two months now and frankly, I got sick of hauling stuff back and forth on the train and then subway when I had to go home. Ross drove us down to Queens and when we parted ways, I got behind the wheel and started the car. I guess it's not a big deal to most who grew up in a car culture and get in a car daily and drive to work, the supermarket, or the movies. When I was little my dad had a motorcycle. He eventually got a car but was the slowest driver on the road because he greeted everyone. And I didn't live with him for the most part. My mom never learned how to drive. My sister learned to drive after me. I had to work up to it. I suppose this is liberating, being able to drive myself to work.