Out the Window

I dropped off my car this morning at my neighborhood mechanic, about 3 or so miles away from the house. The last time I did this, the man I was dating at the time refused to pick me up and drive me home, so I had to hoof it. This time, however, I came prepared. I threw my trusty bike on the rack and rode back home.

I zip around my every day in my car, running to the market, running to the drugstore, running up to the park, ironically, to go running. My neighborhood flies past me out my car window every single day. I never realized how little I knew about where I live until today, when I biked through it. I had always gotten a brief glimpse of the sign for the Ranch House restaurant. It looked cool enough in passing, one of those divey little diners that reminds you of Mel's, of Arnold's, of every local hash house we watched on TV as we swilled McDonald's when we were kids. But only today was I close enough to smell the home cooking, the wafting scent of hash browns and really good coffee, and go in to try a bite. Before today I had a vague impression of a few Latin markets in the area, as I whipped by on my way to the Publix supermarket. But only today did I see that the cheap, fresh green tomatillos I have been in search of forever were right around the corner. Along with a santeria shop, in case I ever want to cook up a side order of revenge.

I saw the church on the corner letting out the morning mass, disgorging an array of peaceful looking business suit types, mixed in with the local abuelas in black dresses and walking sneakers. (That guilt thump in the back of head was a reminder that I haven't been to mass in while.) The crossing guard at the corner of the nearby middle school is Tom, friendly and very concerned about public safety. After making sure that I wasn't supposed to be in school myself, he chastised me about riding my bike across the intersection instead of walking it. I am "old enough to know better."

It is amazing the little things we miss by being a car culture. Especially in this town, where public transportation is the ultimate oxymoron, as the public can barely get anywhere it needs to in any good time with our wretched bus system and no trains to rely on. But now that I have had a taste of mini exploration, I don't think I will be so quick to just jump in the car when all I need is a quart of milk from the market on the corner.

Speaking of tastes, I gained another interesting piece of information on my sojourn today. The sushi bar up the street has started opening for lunch. I think five blocks of pedal power definitely entitles me to a few California rolls. YUM!