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The Great Escape
November 1st, 2008 | Devin Pratt
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After three years in New York, I've gotten fairly used to the daily inconveniences of living in the city. The laundromat still sucks but I've learned to make it part of my weekly schedule (and to factor in an extra 10 minutes to argue with the little old Greek lady about the machine taking my money). I've come to terms with the fact that it will always take four Duane Reade employees to find the key to the display case that protects the razor blades (Mach 5's ain't cheap). I'm even used to an armpit in my face during the evening commute home on the 6 train. But the one thing I do miss from time to time is the freedom of a car.
I have an uncanny way of becoming attached to things. I've owned my 1998 Volkswagen Jetta, that I affectionately refer to as Sophie, since 2000. When I moved to New York I decided to leave the car at my family's house in Maryland since parking is tough to come by here (not to mention expensive).
I've put almost 100k miles on that car, including trips to the Outer Banks in North Carolina, weekend expeditions to upstate New York, Thanksgivings in Cleveland, Christmases in Virginia, drive-in theaters in Delaware, camping on the beach in Maryland, and several years running around Philadelphia.
A snazzier version of my VW
I'm not really a car nut by any means. In fact, I'm an incredibly slow driver. Senior citizens routinely blow my doors off on the interstate. Plus, a Jetta isn't exactly a sports car. And, with its boxy design, the 10-year-old VW won't win too many beauty pageants either.
I think what it is that I love about the car is the freedom and the memories I associate with it, along with the comfort of familiarity. I know exactly what the heater will smell like when I turn it on for the first time in the fall. I know the precise moment it will kick into gear on a steep incline. I even know how many more miles (26.7) I can go once the gas light comes on.
Along with the comfort element, there's the idea of having the freedom to take off at any given moment. Sometimes New York feels like a bubble. You basically have the whole world buzzing along in one urban microcosm and it's wonderful — any kind of cafe, restaurant, clothing shop, or business can be found in this city. But, with that buzz comes the inevitable need to escape. Sometimes you just need to have some elbow room. That's what I really miss about not being able to jump in the car, pop on some good music and decompress for a while.
Related Topics: comfort, inconveniences, Jetta, old car, VW
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Devin Pratt | Comments Off
The Great Escape
(via Facebook, MySpace, Digg, email and more)
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