Streets Like Metaphors

For a long time, I’ve been TERRIFIED of riding my bike on the road.

Just recently, they finished up an improvement project on my block. Before it started, the street I live on might have been charitably described as a pothole canal loosely connected by strings of delicate asphalt-and-concrete lace. Sidewalks? Not here. Just trampled paths through neighborhood yards, washing bits of lawns out into the street when it rained.

The project meant the street was torn up, unrecognizable, inaccessible, inconvenient, smelly, and pummeled by heavy machinery for a long time. Just getting home was sometimes a bit of an adventure.

But after a summer of painstaking progress, now it’s finished. There is a a glorious, smooth new road! It’s broad and flat and well-painted! It’s beautiful! There’s a sidewalk and real curb! There’s a BIKE LANE!

And I can ride that bike lane all the way to the end of the block. Where it abruptly ends and dumps you back out into traffic and potholes.

That’s my life in a nutshell right now, kids.

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