These Boots

"One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you."
Lee Hazlewood, 1966.

Unlikely. But they may walk over a piece of sidewalk that you have walked on. Or to a bus stop near you.

The spirit of the song is useful to me, though. Creating the sensation of kicking some Pittsburgh sidewalk ass as I move forward in the world.

My new waterproof walking boots were an investment- that's what I told myself as I researched styles and brands online, and finally, somewhat reluctantly, clicked "place order". A $100 investment in my comfort and peace of mind(and they go with most of the outfits in my wardrobe). I rarely spend $100 on any one item. Certainly not shoes. Grateful that I am able, easily, to make this kind of purchase, I chalked it up to what a couple of oil changes would have cost me.

I know that many of my fellow foot travelers don't have the resources to make the same choice for their foot health and safety. Or even know where to find good, solid walking boots or shoes. I didn't. Or get there to purchase them, or have reliable access to the internet or time to order them. Or even want them- they are not as glamorous as gold pumps or what all the kids are wearing.

But sneakers get wet, cheap shoes crack at the soles, and this is just not a world for flip flops, bargain knock offs or this season's must have, even on days when it isn't raining or very cold. They don't take you as far.

The Nuts and Bolts of It

3.4 miles is the distance from my front door to the door of my workplace. 1 hour is how long it takes me to walk there directly, no stopping except for traffic lights. 15 minutes is the amount of time it took me to drive that distance every morning in my car. 1.5 hours is how long it takes me to complete my morning rituals, including dog walking, breakfast and conversation- not negotiable. $2.50 is the cost of the bus, with one transfer, taking me from my neighborhood to the neighborhood where I work.

Sometimes the bus is worth it.

But I love to walk- weather and schedule permitting. My body seems built for it. I like driving, but never loved it. Not the daily grind kind of driving that mindlessly takes you, as if without your consent, to the grocery store and the million other destinations where errands and duty are your mission. That kind of driving was taking over my life- my very short life. And while over two hours devoted to preparing for and arriving to work looks excessive, car-free, my time now oddly feels more like my own.

I've traded a roomy, if sometimes cluttered, backseat, for a tote bag housing daily necessities like water bottle, take-home work, library books, shopping bags and lunch. If I remember. To help with the transition, I made a post-it note list of all of the things I might want to take with me. It is stuck to the inside of the front door, and I check it against my needs. Objects that used to live rent-free in my car- an umbrella, sunglasses, the i-pod- now must demonstrate their value to me daily if they are to be tossed in the bag . I can't afford to carry dead weight.

Sunscreen, liberally applied to my face and neck, and a new pair walking boots, are the only other changes to my commute. I have walked as far to work before, though from a different direction. I remember how- with purpose, and at my own pace.

Newly Car-free

"I never met anyone in my whole life that didn't want to have a car."

That was my mother's reaction when I broke the news to her by telephone. Unfortunately, she was the last to find out. I was saving that conversation, because I knew it would be a long one. And I understood her point of view.

It was similar to one of the cons on my "pros and cons of giving up my car" list. That was the con where I admitted that one reason I would not want to give up my car was that people would think I was poor. I could feel my mother's shiny dreams for me reaching out through my cell phone and crumbling to dust in the air around my head.

But I had hashed it out on paper, in my head, and with my girlfriend over several weeks, and I had made my decision. I would indeed give up my car, and all of the dreams, conveniences, and worries that went with it.

This is my blog about that car-free decision, and the road ahead.