On How the
Untimely Death of My Transmission Was Timely Indeed
(or The Year
of Peace, Joy, & Laughter)
(alternatively
Hooray, I’m Getting A Scooter!)
Well now. Isn’t this quite the situation. The last time I sat in front of my shiny Ebersole-branded laptop to write a letter to myself for others to read was 17 ½ months ago. Holy hole in a doughnut, Batman! It’s been a long time. I’ve quit this journal many times. It’s good I never started smoking. I seem to have trouble quitting. In September of 2011 I was overwhelmed to be back in America, overjoyed to be with my family and friends again, and overrun with ambiguity about leaving part of my heart in New Zealand…and Israel…and Ecuador… America circa 2013 continues to overwhelm me, my family and friends continue to bring me incalculable joy, and I still have dreams of the Auckland Civic Theatre and howler monkeys roaring through the Guatemalan night. Much hath happen-ed that history hath not recorded. And thus it shall remain. For today we live today.
And today is a day that henceforth shall be remembered as the day of my next great decision. I’ve made many decisions since I last detailed in excruciating exactness the inner workings of my decision-making process. They were all quite important and quite unimportant at the same time. Each one was made with as much thought as could be allowed without over-thinking, and each one was in fact the right decision at the time. I am happy to continue my tradition of making decisions that seem to be the right decision at the time with this not-too-terribly-surprising-but quite-consequential-and-dare-I-say-reformationary (I say that’s a word) decision: today I decided to change the world. Today I decided to cut the number of motorized wheels in my life in half. Today I decided that I am a person who rides a scooter. Nevermore shall I drive (slight exaggeration). Henceforth I shall scoot!
Anyone who has spoken to me in the past 5 years certainly is already well acquainted with my passion for scooters and my desire to have one to have and to hold as long as we both shall live. And anyone who has spoken to me in the past 29 years knows full well that behind even the kind of Pop-Tarts I eat for breakfast is a vast and far-reaching story holding critical implications and symbolism for the future of mankind and keys to true enlightenment (actually, I’ve come to really like Save-a-Lot imitation breakfast pastries for no reason other than the fact that they’re cheap and taste good). So there is undoubtedly a journal’s worth of explanation as to why I am spending half my net worth on a cute little scooty scoot scooter. There is!
Scooters very well may be God’s gift to humanity and the key to salvation in this world. If Jesus is the Way, then I think we’re supposed to drive Route Jesus on a scooter, particularly with a cute girl wrapping her arms around our waist because there’s nowhere else to hold on…and probably a Bible. I learned in AP English class that the most effective way to convey information is in 3’s. All arguments must be broken down into 3 points to effectively reach their intended audience. This has become so ingrained that I think I do it naturally now. 3 bear, 3 little pigs, 3 Musketeers, 3 reasons why scooters are the coolest thing ever. Scooters are givers. They’re the Santa Claus of the wheeled world. Cars take. They’re like the Tooth Fairy, they take, but they don’t leave a quarter under your pillow. In fact they take a quarter, and leave you with smog, and crushing loneliness (another fine use of hyperbole). Scooters build up (here’s our big 3!) – the environment, the economy, and community. Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!
Because, however, this is a journal and not an academic paper and it would be totally out of character for me to write a journal that logically and coherently grouped my thoughts, I will allow the reader the pleasure of grouping all of the following supporting points into those 3 categories and continue forward in my usual stream of conscious style. In a way, my scooter is a way to connect with my Amish roots. My roots aren’t technically Amish, but they are of the same ilk. (Not, unfortunately, of the same elk, in which case I would be getting a sleigh instead of a scooter.) Before people started wearing ties 80 years ago, my Ebersoles and the Amish were pretty well indistinguishable. We have a few fundamental values in common, my forepeoples and I. Simplicity, peace, and doing what you gotta do even when the larger society misunderstands. It’s shoofly pie, and MLK, and Thoreau, and punk rock…and scooters. The Amish choose to live a distinctive lifestyle, a life completely in line with their values regardless of societal support, and in doing so believe they are drawn closer to God. Will driving a scooter bring me closer to God? It will certainly bring me closer to nature and the elements, the changing of the seasons, into a conscious awareness of the climate forces working around me as I scoot around with nothing over my head (except a sweet looking helmet). It will bring me closer to my friends both physically, since it’s hard to leave room for Jesus when you have two people on a seat that’s only about two feet long, and emotionally, as the natural euphoria of driving a scooter will unquestionably make me a generally friendlier person, and I’ll be more inclined to visit them since I don’t have to worry about parking a big old car somewhere. And as I scoot around, I will be connected with my surroundings and able to wave at people I see. I often see friends as I ride around town now on my bike, and I expect that to continue on my new motorized bike. And I fully believe it will bring me closer to myself as well, as I pursue a dream and an authentic expression of my values and character. In living more in line with my true self, I think I shall indeed know myself even more. No noise, no music, no distraction of any kind (I’ll miss the music…and NPR…a lot), just me and the sounds of the world around me and the whir of the motor. Closer to nature, closer to people, closer to self. So yes, closer to God!
The Amish and I share many values. My downsizing to a scooter is simply a less extreme expression of the same inclination that causes the Amish to downsize to a horse and buggy. Maybe someday I’ll get there, but for now, I’m still walking, not yet quite ready to leap! So what values exactly, do I have that cause me to go this route? What piece of my soul am I expressing by using a scooter as my primary means of transport? It may be helpful first, because I grew up on punk rock, to explain what exactly I’m rebelling against (because we all know I had no idea what to do when Obama won and I had no president to rebel against anymore). Our society, especially since the post-war era, has been built completely around cars. We don’t notice it much because we don’t question it, because it’s our norm, but our cities, and therefore our lives are structured with the automobile as the center, with speed and efficiency as the highest order. To go into depth about the pervasiveness of the cultural shift that occurred with the rise of cars would take a book, and in fact there are many books about it, but aside from drive-in movie theatres, most of it hasn’t been good. There are ideological changes, one could argue, things like fast food and fast everything, that derive from cars. Interstates, an idea invented in Nazi Germany, were brought Stateside after the war to make sure we could get where we want to go quickly, without ever having to worry about what happened along the way. Limited access highways cut us off from downtowns and Main Streets (remember Route 66?), because city streets naturally require us to slow down, to take a more relaxed pace. Entire towns became ghosts. These roads cut through mountains and towered over rivers instead of working around them and with them, cutting us off from topography. But it’s not just the fast Interstates. Our cities, before cars, were obviously designed without the need for cars. People got around on foot, with a horse, or for longer trips on public transportation. Cities were thus designed to accommodate this. People moved slower and cityscapes needed to be designed to attract the attention of slow-moving foot traffic. Design and environment mattered because you had the time to look at it. Roads were narrow, buildings were human-sized, everything was structured based on foot traffic and narrow lanes for horse travel. And hubs sprang up around public transportation stops. Moving slowly allowed us to see the world around us, to interact with it, to experience the real world, not filtered through a window or a computer screen, but the actual world. Cars brought wide roads and a focus on bigger buildings and advertisements you could see at high speeds. A huge portion of our cityscape today is devoted to parking. Parking lots where there used to be buildings. Parking garages where there used to be parks. Street parking cutting of anyone’s view of the sidewalk and street-level businesses. Garages appeared at homes to protect our cars and took up space. We could get places quicker so we could live farther away from work and thus disconnect our personal caves from public life or the life of the city. Regional and urban planning changed from an approach focused on meeting human needs to one focused on efficiency, size, and speed. I like hyperbole, it’s true, but I challenge you to think of a single aspect of modern life not somehow altered because of cars. It’s true that scooters do not solve all these problems, but I do believe they are a step in the right direction. And it’s quite true that I am ignoring certain inconsistencies. I do like the heater in my house in the winter, sometimes I do just want to get where I’m going quickly, many times I appreciate the benefits of technology. I have biases, as we all do. We’re almost all somewhere in the middle of the extremes, but now I can be in the section of the middle that is most authentically me!
Cars cocoon us. We can control our own temperature, stay connected to the Internet at all times, choose our radio station, watch TV as we drive, move around the city alone in a car with space for 4 or more. The scooter is the antithesis of this. Whatever the weather is outside, you feel it. You can’t do anything but drive when you’re on a scooter, and there’s only room for two people, and you really have to like each other because you get pretty close. You’re a part of the world around you instead of isolated from it. You also use considerably less resources, both as far as the amount of space that you take up (and need to park), and the fuel you consume. Even the biggest gas-guzzling scooters get 70+ mpg, and many get over 100. 100 miles per gallon. That’s smiles per gallon, my friends! Scooters are also, well, difficult sometimes. They are in every sense, more challenging and uncomfortable than cars. This is why I like them. A life without discomfort, without challenge, without strain, without mental exercise is simply not a full life. Neither extreme is appropriate, but today’s world (do I sound like an old man yet?) clearly (over)emphasizes convenience. I’ve related my feelings on GPS units before, and it’s the exact same concept here. GPS units take every bit of thought and fun out of exploring and getting around. It just makes it too easy, and too, well, boring. With no roof on a scooter, you are completely at the mercy of the elements. With only limited storage ability, you must pack light or think creatively. With a max speed of 60 mph (depending on the model) you are unable to legally drive on Intestates. This is inconvenient, takes more time, requires you to slow down, exposes you to extreme weather, and makes everyday life more difficult. And I love it! Give me a challenge, my friends. Make me use my brain. In separating ourselves from challenge, we never have the opportunity to realize what we are capable of. It’s only in overcoming difficulty that we appreciate success, that we experience the transformative power of gratitude, and that is worth infinitely more than comfort or convenience. What your papa always told you? It builds character? I suppose I agree. And scooters are, it’s a fact, potentially dangerous. In fact, I’m a little scared. Am I strong enough to balance it? Will I be able to figure out manual transmissions? What about the stories everyone tells me of everyone they know who’s ever owned a scooter ending up in a hospital? Frankly, I don’t have any hard numbers to back up the fact that scooters are actually statistically safer than cars, and they very well may not be, but I actually like to be scared. Not haunted house, severed head scared, but the little bit of thrill that pushes us outside of our comfort zones. Scooters, in essence, make us feel alive.
And they are just plain fun! I say this never having ridden one in my life. But they’re so much fun! And what a great opportunity to share that joy with others, to sit them an inch and a half behind me and let them experience the exhilaration of the wind and the sun along with me. For what good is joy, if it can’t be shared?
All this is part of a renewed effort on my part to recapture my own authenticity. It’s my quarter-life crisis…a few years late…and maybe I started it a while ago…these things take time. My wonderful position working with National Heritage Areas, celebrating the incredible stories of regions of our country that preserve and bring to life unique regional culture. The new year and Lent and the opportunities for new beginning s that come from them. Finding a church home. And finally the death of my beautiful 1993 Chevrolet Cavalier, no sooner broken in than broken. I was, of course, never unhappy and I have enjoyed and am thankful for every minute, just not completely fulfilled, not completely satisfied with the compromises I had to make. And no one instance, no product, even if it is a scooter, changes everything, but it is a happy and joyous occasion, a time for laughter and fun and joy and peacefulness and slowness and focus and snuggly cuddles. It’s exciting to do something you’ve been itching to do for half a decade!
So my car is currently in the shop. I had two choices: fix it for the same amount I paid for it 8 months ago, or scrap it for pocket change. Based on my 4 pages of scooter cheerleading, you would think I told my friendly mechanic I no longer had use for my car, that I had reached an epiphany and have transcended the need for four-wheeled vehicles. But I did not. The transmission is on its way as we speak, and soon my Chevy will be good as new, waiting for me to take home again. For you see, there is a third way. It struck me in the 11th hour as I stood along the Delaware River gazing in the frigid cold toward Camden, NJ, and admiring a seagull’s perseverance, sitting resolutely on a railing, feathers ruffled but posture like stone. That seagull could have been an angel. The car was in the shop for 6 days, waiting for my decision. I had just fixed the back brakes. I’d just gotten a new battery. And now I’ll have a new transmission. Not exactly the normal course of action for a car that you don’t want anymore. But a very fine course of action for a car that someone else may want. Something just never sat right about junking a car that was in great shape minus a busted transmission. I’d just put $200 worth of repairs into it before the transmission went. It’s a beautiful car. It has low miles. It gets great gas mileage. It seemed like a shame. So do I really think I’ll be able to sell it for more than the quarter grand I could have got for its parts? I do not. But that car still has potential, it still has spunk, it still has life, and to destroy it now would be like throwing out your leftovers just because you couldn’t finish them in one sitting. That car still has the potential to bless another life, to make someone happy. So in what perfect world is this scenario possible? This one, my friends. This crazy perfect world we live in
Enter the world of donated cars for charity, a world where anyone with any car in any condition can tell a charity, “You can have my car. Take it and do with it as you please. You may sell it for whatever you can get for it and keep the money.” This is my course of action. I can fix my car, use it as needed until I get a motorcycle license and a scooter, then donate it to public radio (my charity of choice), who will give it to a very successful company who can sell it for top dollar and give 80% of the profits back to the charity. This option makes everyone a winner. I can support the local economy by supporting my mechanic, the tow company they’ll use to get my car from me to wherever it needs to go, and the good folks in the car donation business. I can support public radio (though I ideally would have done this anyway, so I suppose this isn’t really a bonus), and thank it for the many years I have spent allowing it’s intelligent and thoughtful programming to brighten the inside of my car (I’ll need to find a new location to listen to Prairie Home Companion). And least importantly, it benefits me. Yes, of course all charity means a tax write off, which may or may not make any difference in the end, but it also, surprisingly, can potentially make me money. Without getting into the details of the math, the fixed up car has real potential to garner more for the charity than the cost of repairing it. Assuming I would at some point be donating to charity anyway, I am essentially breaking even, getting the car fixed for free, and blessing a number of others I the process. I couldn’t believe it when I figured it all out in my head. There was a way for everyone to win. There almost always is. It just takes time, and focus, and joy, and faith, and an occasional hiccup, the kind that keeps you on your feet, the kind bred from thinking creatively in response to challenges…the kind enabled by a scooter. I’ll see you as I scoot along. Don’t forget to wave! And don’t be afraid to hop on. Two smiles are better than one. Scoot on, scooting scooter! Away we go!
