When I was single, and before I met my husband, I had a house in Dallas. It was built in 1963. It was on an enormous third-of-an-acre lot with a gorgeous oak tree in the back yard and crepe myrtles so large you could climb them. (I did.) It was a fixer-upper with a mish-mash of floor coverings and a foundation problem. (After over 40 years, the load bearing wall wasn't bearing the load so well anymore.) It was too much for me. I never fixed it up. I did a few cosmetic things: painting, mainly. And my mom, dad, and I converted a screened porch with a sauna (seriously) into a screened porch with bar and a sink. It wasn't perfect. But it was mine, my little third-of-an-acre.
And when I lived in Dallas, before I became a suburban wife and mom, I took the train to work. And it was awesome. Dallas has light rail. I have always been enamored of urban rail lines. Maybe it's because I'm from a small town in East Texas that commuter trains seem very glamorous and modern to me. Maybe, though, it's simply because I hate to drive.
So, even though it sort of smells, I love The Tube in London. DC's Metro is so slick. Chicago's El makes you feel nostalgic for a life you never knew, as you wind around the buildings at mid-level. And the subway in New York? Well, even though I've visited the city more times than I can count on my hand, I've never actually been on the New York Subway . . . but I love the idea of it . . . and Grand Central Station is cool. (My husband, who did live in New York for several years, swears that he damaged his hearing on the Subway, but I digress.)
I like everything else about my life in the suburbs: the fact that the city is small enough to walk just about anywhere, the parks, the running trails, the school district, our house. And, of course, my family. Even the fact that my home is far away from my office downtown makes me happy.
But we're not on a DART Rail line. So when I moved to the 'burbs, I gave up my rail pass and, with it, an hour or more of my day in which I would read books. I would read one or two books a month on the train. It was my decompression time. It was my time to explore the paper world. I felt smarter and more well rounded. I am sure I was more interesting to talk to.
I also liked that I wasn't clogging the freeway with one more tin can, that I wasn't burning all that fossil fuel, and that I was participating in Dallas's urban-ness. Taking the train makes you feel differently about the city you live in. Dallas seemed smaller and easier when I took the train. Need to get downtown? Just hop the rail line, and you're there in less than 30 minutes with no traffic snarls or hassels with parking. You're less likely to head downtown if getting to your destination involves a long drive on a hot and crowded freeway followed by a frustrating search for a $10 parking space.
Now, I drive to work. I've tried books on CD to fill the dead time in the car. It's not the same. I'm not nearly as engaged in the text when I'm listening to a book on CD for all the obvious reasons, not the least of which is that I'm paying attention to traffic. In fact, often, I'm not listening at all. The book is just a sound to cover up the road noise . . . might as well listen to the radio. And the 45 minutes to an hour I spend at the end of each day trying not to die on Interstate 35 exhausts me so much that I am less likely to do the things I need to do to be a healthy human: cook meals, exercise, read books. And it makes me less fun for my husband and son too. I also feel badly about the gas, the pollution. That's the air my boy will breath for the next, let's hope, 100 years or more.
There's a new rail line that extends to a neighboring suburb. I would still have to drive to get there, maybe 15 minutes or so. And then the train ride would be another 40ish minutes. Is it worth it? It might be. Maybe, one week, I will try it . . . .
I miss taking the train.
