Driving In New York City

I’ve driven in New York City – specifically Manhattan – four times, all between 1996 and 2006, all as a tourist. It is, by far, an experience all to itself. It’s not for the faint at heart; to me driving in NYC is about 95% immediate instinct and 5% luck – or maybe vice versa. With all of the traffic - cars, buses, taxis, people, and bikes – hundreds and seemingly thousands of them, all trying to get somewhere as fast as possible and even sooner, impatiently, it’s a ton of input to take in, in the various split seconds you need to make a decisions. Where do I need to turn? Three blocks ahead, I mean two? I can’t turn left here? Now what? Three rights? I can see the building I want to get to but I’ve been in this car for 45 minutes now, going the wrong way and then the right way, closer and then not closer, and then…

…GRIDLOCK. The worst experience in my opinion, if you take out accidents (which I did not have any) and near misses (which I’ve had a few), is gridlock. When you’re sitting in your car, totally surrounded by all of the above, and nothing is moving. Nothing. Stopped. Standing still. Not even a hint at movement. And there’s nothing that can be done except to wait. And wait. And wait for something to happen, something to free up somewhere so traffic can start flowing again, so I can get to where I want to go.

WELL…that’s where my blog has been. Mental gridlock. There are several places I want to go. I’ve started down a couple of streets already. But…I’m stuck. Trapped. Surrounded by hundreds of competing thoughts all trying to get to where they want to go first. For all of my road rage tendencies, one area where I don’t suffer from road rage is being stuck in traffic. It’s inevitable. It is what it is. (You may have seen me write this before.) So no, I don’t have blog rage either. (Although, I’d hate to see what would happen if I did suffer from blog rage.) But I haven’t gotten out of the car yet. I have no plans to abandon it in the middle of the street, to walk aimlessly towards my next stop.  

I’m just sitting in my car. My mental car. Blaring music. Probably making a fool of myself singing along, loudly, way off-key, doing some steering wheel drumming and playing air guitar in the driver’s seat. Waiting for something to happen, something to free up somewhere so traffic can start flowing again, so I can get to where I want to go. Waiting…

Waiting…