I guess in the run up to Christmas I have been using the ol’ cargo bike a bit more than usual, and for some rather long trips to shopping complexes I would normally avoid. I guess then I should not be surprised by the rash of recent comments of the following sort: “Fuck, yer committed!”
Committed indeed. To what, I’m not sure. My Primrose and I tried our darndest to commit to this blend of contemporary, character and charm in Tasmania:
After two years we sold it. It was either that or electric shock therapy. We’re back now in Newcastle East, wedged between a late 19th-Century Victorian CBC and about 15 famous surf breaks, and we’re living car free, because the briny air (oh the briny air) destroys cars in 5 years. Owning two cars would cost 20K p.a., or 30K p.a. before-tax. That’s a lot of boss-cock I don’t want to suck. It feels so much better working with my modest but honest array of startups.
(By the way, are you looking for a knock-em-dead speaker for your next annual conference? Check what British Columbia’s architects had to say about my talk there last month!)
It is suburban Australians’ commitment to normality that ought to be praised. Antidepressants, diabetes, 8K on average per car per year spent on a mode of transport that can do this to your family:
That was my Primrose and I, and our eldest son who is lucky to be here after we encountered some water running over the road, about 13 years ago. But at least the jaws of life can save a family from a crash. Nothing can save a family from their house in the suburbs, chosen because it was just a twenty minute drive from a range of locations of absolutely no interest. Now that is commitment. Committed for life.
I’m committed to this. I let my 11 year old loose with the camera down at our local beach 2 days ago. He likes seagulls, plus I told him to get photos of bikes (because parking shortages, oh the parking shortages, mean more people walk or ride bikes here than can possibly drive). Our wet planet has enough coastline for every city dweller to live near the beach, if we built densely enough. I would be happy for my own street to be rezoned “hyper-density”. My neighbours and I could all swap our plots for penthouses, plus a million or so for our trouble, and you all could join us and only use cars for trips to the desert, or whatever the hell use we would find for cars then.