Waiting for the Green

The end of winter never seems as near when the seed catalogs start arriving, as the end of summer does when the first fall J. Crew catalog shows up in your mailbox.
Why is that?

But winter is coming to an end. Mark my words. Sooner or later it will be over.
To prove it (to myself, I suppose, more than to anyone else), I decided to go for my usual walk, despite the arctic cold. Walking is my therapist, my sanity preserver, my meditation. Unfortunately, this joyful and affirming experience often breaks down at the very place that should be the safest in the world:
THE PEDESTRIAN CROSSWALK.

The culprit: right-turning vehicles driven by oblivious people. At most intersections, the green light for cars inevitably coincides with the WALK light for pedestrians traveling along the same line. You would think that common courtesy and sense would prevail. Cars are, after all, considerably larger than pedestrians, and capable of inflicting significant damage on impact. Furthermore, in inclement weather (such as today's frigid conditions), cars provide a measure of protection for their inhabitants, and common consideration for fellow humans might dictate that drivers yield the right of way to those traveling on foot. 

In the loop, this is generally less of a problem, for pedestrians, in any case, simply due to their sheer numbers. Once the light changes, they flood the crosswalk, and drivers, like it or not, must simply wait.
Not so in my backward, SUV dominated northwest side neighborhood. The city of Chicago, no doubt looking out for the interests of transit users, has been placing bus stop covers near major intersections. These booths, in addition to shielding CTA riders from the elements, also provide needed advertising revenue to the city. Unfortunately, the ads obscure right-turning drivers' view of any activity in the crosswalk.

So there I was, three-quarters of the way across the street, when I was suddenly approached by a Buick. I stopped. The Buick stopped. I took a step forward. The car lurched forward. I stopped again. It stopped too. Up to this point, my gaze was trained on the Buick's bumper, now within inches of my knee. I chanced a look at the driver. She was hopping up and down in her seat, waving impatiently, and yelling for me to "go, go, go!" Like hell I will, lady. Slowly and cautiously, I put my toe in front of the car. And again, the car lurched! So naturally, I stopped. The car stopped to, but in her frustration, the driver made it bob up and down as she jumped in her seat. I made a big production of putting my arms out toward the car, and walking in a giant circle in front of it as slowly as I possibly could. At last, I reached the sidewalk.

Now, I had to cross the other street. Here, a right-turning Navigator positioned itself in the middle of the pedestrian walkway. This car is so fat, so high, and so wide, that there way no way to establish eye contact with the driver. If I couldn't see her (maybe him? I dunno), surely she could not see me. This left me no choice, but to let her go ahead and make her turn against the red light. After this, it would be my turn. No such luck. As I thrust my foot forward, another SUV came careening by, clearly also bent on ignoring the "no turn on red" sign, maneuvered deftly around my extended leg, and turned without so much as a backward glance...

Sheesh. It's a wonder I made it home in one piece.

Still, walking, even when I'm fighting for breath against the northern wind, or with drivers for the right of way, usually helps me get my head on straight, and get a more positive outlook on things. When I come back from a walk, I often undertake absurdly optimistic projects, such as sowing mesclun seeds in the middle of January.

Comments

[ishkadebble]

Last night the owner of the SUV I was pushing sidewalk snow under came out and yelled at me for burying her vehicle. Miraculously, I kept my cool, tho not enough to keep my mouth shut. "Oh. So I shouldn't clear the walks properly if it impacts on your urban truck? I would guess that you don't have a vision impaired osteoporitic mother who has fallen 3 times this winter already. Or that you need to get your small child around the neighborhood in a stroller. And clearly, you must have no idea how tough it is to pull a loaded grocery cart through snowdrifts." She said nothing, just slammed her door. And I thought that someone with an urban truck wouldn't worry about a few shovelsful of snow... maybe SUV's really aren't all that!

[Justyna]

Well, I dunno... At least those SUV owners are pretty tuff! They venture out in single-digit weather without hats. Sometimes even in heels.