Sidewalks
Monday's weather: Storms on Saturday, warm and surprisingly dry today with sun aplenty. My daisy is full of blooms; my cilantro has flowered and is being cranky. The zebra sage is already delicious and my basil is moving from spindly adolescence to robust adulthood.
Monday's drink: C is making me a 7 and 7...whatever that is. G-d help me.
Monday's music: Pink Floyd, particularly "Us and Them" and "The Great Gig in the Sky." What a very private part of me still sounds like.
First, thanks to all who've been writing. Several thoughts on the book club - which really isn't a book club, more a book suggestion. The idea struck some dull nerve apparently, and although I really don't expect already busy people to fuss about with yet another requirement on their time just because Doug said so, I'm plowing forward. The dear Rob Kellerman is already into another book group - this one studying feminism and oligarchy in medieval times. Rockin'! Actually sounds pretty timely. The brilliant David apparently gave away his copy to a local library, which I consider a noble civic deed, and Leah comments that cyber-discussions are less appealing than actual human discussion...a point noted. Let's leave it here: soon I will be interested in your thoughts on my thoughts on the modern operations of Washington power.
To a hopefully short post now. Short and a little cranky. DC sidewalks. And the people that use - or abuse - them specifically.
Friends D and J and I had a lovely gabfest on D's patio Friday. Totally impromptu, totally mellow. The latest in a long and cherished tradition of summer in DC.
We fell to thoughts on our respective neighborhoods, and how it seems walking a dog knits one closer into a community. This makes a lot of sense: you have a dog you walk more, you walk more you're less of a stranger, you're less of a stranger people are more comfortable with you, the more comfort felt the more conversation back and forth. QED.
Most people know how to behave on a sidewalk. Move forward at a comfortable pace; offer eye contact but not too much to on-comers, be willing to adjust a little for others and expect they'll reasonably adjust a bit for you. Smile if you feel like it; offer up a "Good morning" or other relevant pleasantry when called for. Don't leer. Don't scream across the street and down the alley at someone who's not even there.
Some of these are do's. Some are don'ts and, as usual, it's the don't that create the stress. To the point: DC sidewalk walkers are growing increasingly arrogant, jerky, self-important and - worst - uncivil. We know the characters:
* the over-extended young urbanite who refuses to control their dog as it slobbers and paws and lunges toward you and your dog,
* the high school students who move in clumps, shouting and screaming and carrying on beyond all sense or reason,
*the tools who scowl on their way from or to the Metro and refuses - absolutely reFUses - to give any ground on the entire sidewalk, apparently on the theory that he deserves to own it, and you,
* the shambolic federal worker zombie who, in catatonic stupor, manages to bring all other life within a five foot radius down to their death-like pace,
* the (I shall assume) good-hearted but dense touron who seems to think the entire city and all it's inhabitants exist for their amusement, like penguins at a zoo,
* the "F-U" anger-bots intent only on constantly demonstrating that they - yes they! - control the sidewalks to THEIR city and what the HELL are you doing here you ...
Well, yeah. There are others; far more no doubt if other's posted their thoughts. The point is not a sophomoric taxonomy of people but a plea. Please, people: let's remember that we share the sidewalks. In the analogy of city to body, our sidewalks are our small arteries and veins: not the huge aortas of main roadways, but the tiny arterioles and venules that allow exchange of life-giving civic contact to occur. Let's respect them and the others we share them with, and with luck, they will do likewise. But even if they don't: it's the right thing to do.
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The Book Shelf
- Now on the nightstand: "Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underworld" by Anthony Bourdain
- Always at hand: "Lidia's Family Table" by Lidia Matticcio Bastianich
- Back on the shelf: "A Stolen Season" by Steve Hamilton
- Back on the shelf: "All the President's Men" by Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein
- Back on the shelf: "World War Z" by Max Brooks
4 comments:
Marquette finally got up above 65 this past weekend, the leaves are half out, and backyard cherry trees are just starting to think of blooming. Perfect day for a quick run through the old residential district. Very lovely century old homes built by lumber barons and merchants back in the day. The sidewalks are stamped DO NOT SPIT ON SIDEWALK, which leads me theorize that issues of pedestrian etiquette have plagued mankind through the ages.
Lisa
TX Lisa for that. Seems you're spot-on here - as long as people live in crowded spaces, we collectively need to regulate the use of that space. Dictats from above (like Singapore) may create order but they kill the spirit. St. Petersburg's streets (when I was there) were a nest of pickpockets, racists, the poor and overlooked, and anyone else wanting to gibby-gabby on the streets.
I'm not a big believer in 'shame' and the pluses of social coercion; however I wonder how we create a shared social code for sharing our shared byways... -dwd
Hola,
Things are the same the world over.
In Tokyo, the one place in the world most persons think of as almost terminally polite, there is no set way to walk, forcing one to weave back and forth across a walk. In fact, the "proper" sides of the sidewalk change from region to region. I will not go on at length on this except to say this results in chaos, which is not conducive to movement let alone civic feeling.
Not to mention the racist sararimen who are just looking to get into it with a gaijin, especially after a few drinks. (Always ends the same way, with the gaijin in jail.)
And in Iberia, well, an "entropic information exchange" seems to rule as I again dart from one side of the walk to the other. Of course, this does not include the "accidental" side walk knots that benefit the light fingered lurking on the periphery. It's enough to make you want to rivet yourself inside some internally conbusticated device and roll over everything in sight for the rest of your existence.
I won't even go into the third world. Man, even driving, rules and the like are suggestions. I'll have to tell you about driving in Siem Reap one day.
An interesting point - I never thought you considered yourself a corpuscle in the body politic. I think of myself as an electron, speeding my energy and information thru the entropy of man's feeble constructions, giving up a little of both with no clear benefit to anyone or anything.
Time for my Prozac.
-SEJ
I'm with you, DWD...the sidewalk culture is quite similar in Houston, but probably not as "mature" as DC's (since Texans feel it's a god-given right to be able to drive your pickup or car EVERYWHERE). Now that I'm in Midtown and taking Metro to work, those weak excuses we have for sidewalks are bringing out "interesting" social interactions. In Houston, there's the added dimension of, if parties don't move quickly enough, they'll dissolve & get baked into the concrete, tar, worn earth, or whatever substance is passing as a sidewalk. Is there a walker's version of "road rage"??
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