Suburban Soliloquies #
10
~BEYOND SHOES~
A very old story goes that in Persia there once lived
a great and magnanimous King who wished to show his
subjects his appreciation and gratitude. He looked
out upon his people and saw how they suffered in
their feet because of the harsh world through which
they had to trek. Bringing together his wise men, he
proposed to carpet every inch of his land, that his
subjects might walk about more comfortably.
Applying to his wise men as to how this might be
accomplished, they did some simple calculations and
demonstrated to his majesty how such an endeavour
would impoverish the goodhearted ruler long before
the task could be completed. But the wise men truly
were wise, and they countered with an alternative
plan. Instead of carpeting Persia, it would be
simpler to cut out little pieces of carpet for every
subject to tie around their feet. The people were
thus able to walk anywhere and find carpeting beneath
their soles, and the good King had satisfied his
noblesse oblige. Thus were shoes invented.
The suburbanite is not satisfied
with comfortable shoes.
For the little patch of suburbia in
which I reside, we have accomplished something
similar to what the Persian King had originally
intended. Nearly every house has wall-to-wall
carpeting. Comfort for the people goes further still.
Most houses in this community are equipped with
central air-conditioning and central heating. It is
comfortable enough to stroll about in any room of
one's home, not merely shoeless, but entirely naked,
summer or winter. Is there not something grand in
this achievement? More people than ever before live
in these perfect yet artificial environments. I hate
imagining how it must have been for our ancestors
before toilet paper and plumbing.
Nor is this control of our
environment limited to the interiors of our homes. If
we don't have garages, we need only make a short dash
through the heat or rain to climb into sealed systems
on wheels. Fashionable now are these Sport Utility
Vehicles designed to defy bad climate, comfortably
transporting the suburbanite through wind, rain, and
rush hour. Four-wheel drive takes care of snow and
eliminates the need to continue on foot where the
roadway ends. If not still naked, we at least arrive
dry and happy to immense human-specific biospheres,
these being our offices or the local shopping malls.
We endeavour to park our cars as close to the mall's
entrance as we possibly can.
Humans having paved over and built
on so much of this area, the countryside has receded.
From my house it has become very difficult to reach
the country on foot. When I was a kid it was only a
two mile walk. Now there are highways on every side
with no crossings for pedestrians. Beyond are narrow
roads without shoulders along which flows a constant
traffic. Hiking along the roadside in the litter and
debris, broken glass, discarded cans and bottles, it
is a long way to get beyond the exhaust fumes,
dodging cars and trucks, to reach the
"country."
What do we do for the suburbanites
who want to experience the vagaries of nature? For
them we have set aside parks to which most people
will have to drive. Within the parks there are paved
paths for walkers, riding trails for equestrians,
brick grills for eaters, and places to swim or row.
Maps are posted telling walkers where they can and
cannot walk, the bicyclist wear helmets, the rowers
wear life jackets, swimmers do not swim beyond the
designated area, fires are only at the grills, and
everyone must be out of the park by sunset.
About five years back there was a
wide protest when the State decided toallow for deer
hunting in Tyler State Park, not far from where I
write, an area of 1,711 acres of mostly woodland. A
quarter of it is given over to crops (leased to the
highest bidder). The area, with the wide Neshaminy
Creek meandering through it, is beautiful, hilly
country. Still the park is bounded on every side by
suburban landscapes, and suburbanites hate the
prospect of their beautiful Bambis being annually
slaughtered.
Every year the Commonwealth of
Pennsylvania is plagued with an abundance of deer
that will starve come winter. Their numbers increase
despite the filtering effect of a zillion
automobiles. One encounters numerous roadside
carcasses in the course of a month of commuting to
and from work. The last year for which I remember
statistics, the beginning of this decade,
Pennsylvania licensed two million hunters to take to
the woods, for which the State added to their coffers
almost $750,000,000, all for the privilege of chasing
one million deer across the scenic landscape.
A quick calculation might worry the
reader. "There were two hunters for every one
deer," you might wish to point out. But the
State had reckoned that so many proud hunters would
only bring down about 150,000 deer, the rest having
to content themselves with cows, horses, large dogs,
and the occasional other hunter.
Automobiles and men with guns is
not how nature intended to bring about a balance that
would keep deer in check. But the suburbanite does
not want to see hunters replaced with the deer's
natural predators. Dare I suggest the reintroduction
of wolves, large cats, and bears. They would add
colour to the environment. They would add spice to a
mere walk in the woods. There would, of course, be
the occasional loss of a pet or child, but then we
have an abundance of them too. I am confident their
deaths could be kept to a tolerable level. Our
society has already accustomed itself to accepting a
percentage of human deaths in exchange for higher
speed limits, the right to bear arms, and the
privilege of smoking.
Still, it is to be considered that humans, especially
the suburbanite, are the only species that has a good
chance of dying in a comfortable bed, and in a
controlled environment. We've come to expect it.
|