Rationalizing Our Pursuit of the Perfect Commute

On the face of it, the three stories that appeared Thursday in the Metro section of this paper had little in common except cars and drivers. There was a piece about parking enforcement’s crackdown on handicap-parking frauds, another on a study questioning the time- and cost-effectiveness of highway improvements, and a third ranking the top intersections for accidents related to red-light running.

But taken together, the stories reveal as much about how we think as about how we drive.

“Southern California commuters who are stuck in long traffic delays caused by freeway construction are now faced with this sobering thought: They may never make up for that lost time” was one story’s premise. That is a sobering thought, especially for those of us who didn’t realize we were supposed to be getting our card stamped. Or whatever a responsible motorist does to get reimbursed by, one assumes, Caltrans. But in what? Unrestricted use of the carpool lane? Extra days added onto our lives?

The question of whether high-priced freeway improvements are worth it is certainly legitimate. But the way in which it was couched--the retrieval of “lost time”--says a lot about our expectations of travel.

Many of us cling to the vision of the perfect commute--a sun-dappled passage from home to work, uncluttered by other motorists or pesky traffic lights, devoid of any construction or school-bus loadings or ducklings crossing the road. We will simply get in our car and drive, just slightly over the speed limit, and then we will be there.

Each and every day we expect this. Each and every day we are thwarted. But no matter. This is the commute we deserve. Therefore any event, occurrence or situation that deprives us of this commute is a denial of what we are owed. And since compensation is rarely forthcoming, we take matters into our own hands. Yes, the light is definitely red, but if that dang bus hadn’t pulled in front of me, I would have made it free and clear, and so it is my right to run it. Yes, I realize it is illegal to use my mother’s handicap sticker to park here, but last week it took me one half-hour to find parking because they had marked off three whole blocks of meters for some movie shoot, and so I’m only making up for that.

Whether it’s the attachable left (in which we mentally connect our car to the car in front of us, which is just scooting through on the amber) or the heinous, last-minute, exit-lane cut-in (in which we pretend we didn’t realize that was a line for the exit way back there), we use up more really good rationalizations on the road than we ever do in our relationships.

The construction, or the other drivers, or alignment of the planets--whatever the reason, things are not proceeding as they ought, and we are losing valuable time. And that is not right.

It’s a very odd concern for 20th century Americans to have. That an hour is too long for a journey of 40 miles. That in a city of millions, it shouldn’t take us 20 minutes to find on-street parking. That those two minutes we would spend sitting at that red light will somehow ruin our day.

Of course, some of us have also been known to complain when a computer takes more than 30 seconds to boot up.

Which is especially annoying when we need to send that e-mail before the traffic starts moving again.