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Why I Don't Like Straight RoadsJune 12, 2007 No, it's not because I think they're closet heterosexuals. It's not because they're straight and narrow either. Quite the contrary: they're straight and wide. The wideness makes them worse. Ordinarily wide is wonderful. Take a look at my feet. I love my feet. Take a look at my hips. I love them too. Wide roads I do not love so much. I've been helping look after a pony whose owner and barnmate are away. My part of the job is to show up at lunchtime, give the pony a flake of hay, pick out his stall and paddock, and make sure he has plenty of clean water. I also water some newly planted shrubs (I warned my client that all plants entrusted to my care eventually die, but assured her that it always takes longer than 10 days) and let the dog out. The dog's name is Jim. He's a Springer spaniel. His longtime companion, another Springer, recently died and he's been out of sorts and mopey, so today I was thrilled that he accepted my invitation to go for a little walk. Rhodry roused himself from the barn floor to come along. He doesn't mind if I go out with other dogs but he's afraid I might get into trouble if he doesn't come too. We set out down the short side road that my client lives on. If you know Martha's Vineyard -- this side road is off one of the four roads that leave Old County and run back to the state forest. Each one is perpendicular to Old County Road and parallel to each of the others. Each one has side roads that are perpendicular to it and parallel to each of the others. Whoever laid out these subdivision hadn't read Jane Jacobs, or thought much about what makes a community work. Oh yeah, I forgot the three-acre zoning that is prevalent in most parts of West Tisbury, in which town these subdivisions are. Straight roads and three-acre zoning pretty much guarantee that you won't meet your neighbors unless you make a gargantuan effort. My client had to put up a stockade fence along the property line because her neighbor swore her ponies were staring at her. I'm not kidding. Anyway, Jim, Rhodry, and I set off down the road. Jim was on one side and Rhodry on the other. A shiny late-model minivan/SUV (when does a minivan become an SUV? This is a metaphysical question up to which I am not at this moment) comes tearing down the road at at least 30 mph. The driver isn't talking on a cell phone -- maybe she is doing her nails? -- and I don't know for sure that she's a summer person. So many summer-type people live here year-round that it's impossible to know who's who. This makes it easier to focus on the annoying behavior instead of attributing it to a particular class of people. Instead of yelling, "You fooking suburban summer person," I muttered, " Do you really have to go that fast -- jerk?" A couple of minutes later a designer pickup comes tearing out of a driveway. Jim is drifting from the roadside shrubbery toward the pavement; Rhodry is rooting in the bushes on the far side. I block Jim's roadward drifting. The truck tears off down the road. See, if the road curved, these people would not drive that fast. Most of them would be at least subconsciously entertaining the possibility that a motor vehicle of equal tonnage might be approaching at similar velocity on the invisible side of the curve. Dogs, cats, pedestrians, and kids on bicycles aren't much deterrent; fast-moving cars are harder to ignore. One thing I love about Martha's Vineyard is that so many of the minor roads are single-lane and dirt. They are bumpy and mostly unmarked. If you go faster than 15 mph you're pushing it; faster than 20 and you're taking your life (or at least your suspension) in your hands. Civilization or modernity or whatever you want to call it marches in and immediately wants to straighten, widen, and pave these roads. When civilization or modernity gets its way, immediately the minivans, SUVs, and designer pickups start exceeding the posted speed limit by 50, 100, 150 percent. Whereupon the road builders institute speed bumps. Single-lane dirt roads don't need speed bumps to slow people down. And that's why I don't like straight roads.
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