The Day You Realize You Do Not Miss the Car

You come home with your legs a little tired and your head a little clearer.

By Neil Solomon · 2 min read

Picture a couple named Frank and Helen who sold their second car before the move. For the first month Frank kept reaching for keys that were not there. By the third month he had stopped.

One evening he said, "I forgot I live somewhere else."

I take that as a sign. One woman who wrote about her years in China said much the same. She said she no longer felt like she lived abroad. What I notice is that she did not describe a big event. She described a way of living in which the daily things were close at hand.

What a car does to a day

At home, many of us plan the day around the car. We drive to the shop, to the doctor, to the friend. Each trip has a start and an end, and the road between them is time we do not use.

When a person lives where the errands are near, the road becomes part of the day. You pass the same faces. You stop for something you did not plan. You come home with your legs a little tired and your head a little clearer.

I do not claim this is true of every city, or of China as a whole. I only say that when people describe feeling at home, small walks and short rides come up a lot.

The other side

Not everyone wants this. Some people love the privacy of a car. Some have hips and knees that make walking a chore, and for them a place built around a car may be kinder. It is worth asking honestly what your body will say in ten years.

"Are you sure you do not want a car?" Helen asked.

"I want to want one," Frank said. "I do not."

"And when it rains?"

"Then I carry an umbrella and call it a walk."

Reading it for yourself

When you look at a city, I would think about three simple things. Where would you buy bread? Where would you see a doctor? How would you get to a friend's door? If you can answer without a car, you might be looking at a place where the car stops mattering. If you cannot, you could be looking at a place that asks for one.