Red Light, Green Light

My wife and I were driving down 19th Avenue in San Fransisco the other day.  At the end, right were it turns into 280 you actually take a right turn.  To continue straight down 19th, you have to pull left into the straight lane at the stoplight and wait an obscenely long time for the light to let you through.  I've never seen anyone in that lane.  When you look down that street, you don't see any cars moving.  A few parked on the sides, but none moving anywhere and apparently no where to really go.  The reason I was looking at this street was because the left lane on 19th Ave seems to move the fastest in that area, but I'm always afraid I'm not going to be able to turn right.  As it turns out though, every lane on 19th runs right onto 280 and the rest of the avenue is a quiet, single lane road to the kinds of places only a few locals actually go.  I actually felt pity for a street.

I have a habit of personifying things.  My car, computer, even some of my phones actually have names.  Most of the stuff I interact with during the day has at least a personality.  I can't help it.  For some reason, when I open my backpack, I feel comfortable with it, like I do with any friend I've had many adventures with.  And then annoyed at its habit of hiding things from me, moving them from pocket to pocket.  It thinks it's funny and I can almost see it smirking.

Anyway, I felt sorry for that street.  I wondered if it looked at the 280 on-ramp and wondered what made traveling down that freeway such a more interesting and exciting option than continuing on to wherever that street goes to.  I don't even know.  I've never gone straight.  And that led me to wonder if streets actually prefer the quiet life or the busy one.  I guess it depends on the street.  The street just down from my house likes it quiet.  I know this because it has those stupid speed humps on it and make you go less than 20 mph.  That street is like a grumpy old man who doesn't like kids kicking balls onto his lawn.

I'm only telling you all of this though because it led me to have another deep thought.  It happened as I was telling someone about the townships in South Africa.  In these townships, thousands, if not millions of native african people live in squalor just outside the predominantly white cities which are full of wealth and decadence.  It occurred to me that people live in similar situations in other places of the world as well, but we don't feel the pity we feel for those poor people near Capetown.  I think its because of the contrast that appears.  It isn't so bad if you live in a grass hut and eat grubs if everyone you know lives that way.  A corrugated metal shack might even seem pretty fancy.  But when you live in a metal shack next to a mall selling $100 sunglasses, life is pretty unfair.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this.  Its just an observation at this point.  The pity I feel, that we may feel for ourselves, is often only pity based on a comparison with someone else.  I suppose you could apply this to our view of how athletic we are, or how pretty or wealthy or intelligent we are.  But when it comes down to it, those people in grass huts live happy contented lives eating grubs and walking everywhere.  Little boys dream of growing up to be shepherds and are happy to do so.  Its only disappointing when you realize that you could have been an astronaut--if you even know what that is.


I hope, for that neighborhood's sake, that the rest of 19th Avenue doesn't feel jealous of the northern half or of 280.  It may not be the route of choice for 99% of the traffic, but in the end its still going somewhere.  And one of these days, I'm going to veer left and find out where that is.

(For the record, the townships in Capetown are a huge problem, the result of much evil that still exists and the people there deserve so much more.  My wife and I are actually going there to host free summer camps for the poor kids who grow up without hope that things will ever change.  We're hoping to give them some.  And since I'm not above a shameless plug for support--we still have some funds to raise.  Please specify it's for Ben/Frodo)