Today is the big unveiling at Buenaventura Boulevard and Canyon Road. The road signs have been up for days, alerting drivers of the coming attraction. I have known for months that this was coming, and mostly, I’ve been filled with chagrin and regret. Is it too much to ask for one stretch of road in town without a stoplight?
I’m a country girl, going way back. Not the Stetson hat and boots kind, but the rural, not many people, not much traffic, lots of good neighbors and great nature kind. I learned to drive on a wide dirt road when I was ten years old. At fourteen, my parents let me drive the back roads all over the place. Everyone’s parents did.
When I finally hit the road as a licensed driver, I could drive almost 40 miles without hitting so much as a stop sign. Traffic “problems” usually involved wildlife, snow, the occasional lost tourist, or the town fire truck that was so old its top emergency speed was about 45 miles per hour.
So, when I heard that the two or so miles on Buenaventura between Placer Road and Railroad Avenue were going to be fettered by yet another traffic light, I cringed. The older I get, the more I think I’m really done with town life.
My girlfriend Kris, ever the optimist, pointed out that one more stoplight was just one more opportunity to multi-task in a distracted driver kind of way. “You can put on another coat of eyeliner on before you hit the highway!”
As if I would ever do something like that.
And then, I read Kelly Brewer’s blog a while back about how excited she is to see the lights go up. One woman’s speedway is another woman’s frogger experience, I suppose. I rarely traverse Canyon Road, so her daily endeavor to deftly defy collision or injury at Canyon and Buenaventura was off my beaten path, as it were.
It occurred to me that it's this kind of broadening of perspective that makes blogs and blogging so appealing to me. It’s an opportunity to learn things I may not have known, or to smell a different scent in the same old grind.
So, be on the lookout for the new stoplight if you’re at Canyon Buenaventura. If you’re lucky, you might even get to see me waiting *patiently* for the light to change, or Kelly smiling as she makes a safe turn onto the boulevard.
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1 comment:
I too loved that unimpeded stretch of Buenaventura, until I started teaching my sons how to drive (a stick shift).
I never realized exactly how dangerous it was to pull from the side street out onto BV with four directions of cars plus two turns lanes and a blind curve all going on at the same time, and everyone's driving 60 in a 45, until the first time that clutch stalled out in the middle as my young driver was making a left across insane traffic. I was in the passenger seat. He kept his cool and restarted, getting us safely through, but only, I swear, by cosmic grace.
So I was with my neighbors pushing the city for a light. And I say thank you every time I have to stop at the light, for the added measure of safety for all the 15-year-olds in the neighborhood - and my young, inexperienced drivers too.
But I hear you, Miss Susanne. The days are sometimes insufferably long, and every stoplight on the way somewhere can feel a thief of time.
Thanks for the mention. :)
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