Okay. I'd had a car for most of my life. So how did I feel when I sold my last one, before moving to New York? Euphoric that I'd never have to own, sell, or drive a car ever again! Then, after more than six and a half years of not needing one? I moved to the Left Coast, where a car isn't just a car. It's your baby. Unless you're like me. When people asked what kind I wanted, I joked that I was considering a tank.
Now, after living in Los Angeles for nine months, I finally decided not to get a car. I've weighed...and even rationalized...the pros and cons, up one side and down the other. But the bottom line is...driving bores me beyond beyond.
While I truly appreciate the aesthetics of a gorgeous car, my favorite part of my last one was the trunk. In fact, I pay so little attention to them that even when I drove Mercedes, I walked up to someone else's car instead of my own, more than once—as long as it was the same color as mine. And just a few weeks ago, when one of my daughters came to pick me up? I laughed, and told her, "It's lucky I recognize you, 'cause I never recognize your car."
Anyway, you're probably wondering how I get around an area that's as huge as Los Angeles.
1) I walk as much as possible. Because I process, and write chunks of chapters along the way. Which keeps me sane and grounded. (Although, at this point, you're probably wondering about the, "sane and grounded.")
2) I've always had family and friends who love driving...or don't mind it...or have motion sickness if they're not behind the wheel. Which works for all of us because I make a great passenger. I'm not good at navigating, but I'm great at talking a lot.
3) I'm also good at calling for taxis, which is an acquired skill as opposed to the intuitive one of hailing a taxi like when I lived in NYC. (The difference is a blog post in itself.)
4) Sometimes, I take a train.
5) And there's another option. After I've lived here longer, I can rationalize this...again. But I certainly hope that I don't.