Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Ugly and dreary

I don’t want to bash the place where I live. But I guess I’m going to do it anyway.

It seems so dreary here. In part that's because it’s winter again: almost 3 feet of snow over the weekend, in my backyard at least. The roads are dirty with salt and cinders. Trees are still without leaves.

But it’s more than that.

A few weeks ago, my first weekend back home, I drove down to Mansfield for a bike race. On the way there, driving down I-71, it occurred to me how unattractive things seemed. I passed the big outlet mall, the sprawling truck stops, junkyards you can see from the highway.

Mansfield was lots of concrete and ugly 50’s-style houses, with other areas of bulldozed farmland sprouting new “McMansions”. None of it was attractive.

Now there are certainly aspects of Germany that are dreary: the heavy industry in the Rurhgebiet north of Düsseldorf, open mines, graffiti in the city. But it never seemed very far to the next open space or town center with a pedestrian area. Even heavily populated areas were broken up by green space. This is something I miss about Germany, though I don’t miss the heavy traffic the goes along with the population.

It’s particularly disturbing how we seem to be paving over more and more green space in this area, despite an overall decline in population. People then wonder why there are problems with storm water runoff after heavy rain.

I’m sure the weather here is affecting how things seem right now. I’m hoping things will look different when the sun and green return. But even the sun and green won’t stop yet another redundant cluster of Home Depot-Petsmart-Bed, Bath, and Beyond from being built.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

More bad driving

I don't know what was worse, driving in Mass or driving yesterday from Cleveland to Ann Arbor, Michigan and back.

Though German drivers are certainly aggressive, they are at least predictable. You almost never see someone pass on the right on the Autobahn (since it is illegal), and you don't see drivers going slow in the fast lane. Slower traffic stays right. Faster traffic passes on the left.

On the way up to Ann Arbor, I found myself getting more and more annoyed at the people who just drive in the left lane without passing. I saw one car get on the turnpike and immediately cross 2 lanes to drive 60mph in the passing lane. All the way to Michigan I suppose.

It is a very simple concept: stay right, pass left. Why don't people get this?

It was even worse in Michigan -- both the drivers and the condition of the roads (though at least the speed limit is higher).

They also had more the interesting road hazard reports: basketball hoop in the right lane on I-75 (disgruntled Ohio State fan?); refigerator door in the center lane on route 23.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Mass. confusion

This past week I was in Massachusetts for a few days. It was the first time I've traveled anywhere in the US, outside of home, in more than a year.

There was something oddly disorienting about the trip. I couldn't put my finger on it at first, then realized I was somehow expecting things to be "foreign" -- as in European. Over the last year, anytime I traveled I was a foreigner.

And here I was, back in the land of English (although accented), familiar food, familiar customs (like getting the check in a restaurant without asking for it).

It was, in a way, foreign. Just not in the way I'd gotten used to.

We lived in Massachusetts for a few years, back in the mid-80's. One morning I got up early and drove through the 2 different neighborhoods where we lived. I expected everything to seem familiar ... but it didn't. I recognized the houses where we lived and a few landmarks, but mostly it seemed unfamiliar. Business had changed, new houses had gone up, roundabouts had become big intersections, there was now a WalMart (doesn't that always seem to be the case?).

I drove along in the rush hour traffic -- Mass. drivers seemingly much more dangerous and unpredictable than anything in Germany -- thinking again how what we expect is rarely what we find.