RSSLoose on the Streets
Oct 01
Humor Cars, Driving Comments Off
Watch out, Waltham, I have wheels!
Ahem, that is, my friend went out of town and left me the keys to the car. Ah, the first time you sit behind the wheel again after months of spinning your wheels as a lower class pedestrian in suburban jail. Gripping the steering wheel and depressing the brake, hearing the click of gears when you put the car into reverse. Cranking up the stereo, hoping for “London Bridge” and settling for “Summer of ’69.” Hey, I didn’t pick the station.
I was cautious for the first forty seconds of the drive. The time that it took to pull out of the driveway into actual, moving afternoon traffic. My heart fluttered with anticipation as the car roared and I plunged forward into my first intersection. Finally, I know what Bobby Labonte feels. And he only gets to drive around in circles.
I momentarily forgot my new freedom as I noticed what I had forgotten about driving in Waltham. Namely, the peculiar craziness that Waltham drivers bring to game. I noticed a line of three cars driving in the median down High St. To be sure, they had their own lane, no need to inch even a quarter of the way into mine.
I hesitate to attribute all of the insanity to Waltham drivers because a lot of their driving idiosyncrasies are attributable to Massachusetts drivers in general. For instance, Mass drivers will cruise into right and left turns without any regard for oncoming traffic, the color of the traffic lights, or the weather. It’s snowing, it’s a red light, that means go. It’s an unprotected left turn, it’s rush hour, that means go. It’s a right turn-only lane, but I’m going straight, that means go. Lanes are merging, and you’re slowing down, that means go. It’s a rotary, and traffic is at a dead stop, that means go.
Waltham has a particular dynamic between cars and pedestrians that is a direct result of the vast number of people who have nothing better to do than cross Moody St. back and forth all day, playing frogger with the privileged class of Waltham residents that drive. The trick is to get as many cars in one direction of traffic to come to a halt waiting for you to cross. Bonus points are awarded if you stop traffic at an intersection. Double points for causing a car going twice the speed limit to come to a screeching halt so that you can cross in front of them.
Now fold into the mix the commuter rail train that roars through Waltham station some fifteen times a day, an active bus depot, and a town full of college students and driving through Waltham to the highway can be an adrenaline rush. Now put me behind the wheel for the first time since I moved back to the suburbs, and get the hell out of the way.
Other towns have their quirks too. Everything stops for a funeral in Watertown. Newton, the snooty neighbor, their roads collapse down to one lane for both directions because of residents exercising their city-given rights to park any where they damn well please. Jamaica Plain, carefully protected against ground invasion because there is no way in and no way out. And Natick, where if you want to turn around, you have to drive to Framingham.
In fact, on my way to Natick by way of the Mass Turnpike, I still have to get to the highway. On the way there I encounter a pick-up trying to back out of one driveway only to pull into the next driveway and park. A Toyota driving dead in the middle of two lanes. And the notorious Route 20/ Highway 95 rotary.
The fact that I am out of gas. The fact that the car rumbles with an unfamiliar feel. The fact that the car in front of me is weaving between two lanes like a stumbling drunk. Nothing can dampen the euphoric feeling of being a driver once again. Time has eroded my caution and exhausted my driving instincts. All I know is that the highway ahead of me is clear, and Waltham now sits directly behind me flashing its pearly brilliance in my rear view mirror. I am freed from the suburban grip and on the highway, and that means go!
