Confessions of a pedalphile

I have a secret.

A really deep secret.

I know what you're thinking.

I'm an al-Qaeda sympathizer.

I'm a Satanist.

I'm a Yankee fan.

Ok, ok, so those last two are basically the same.

I know you didn't think anything could be more horrific than being a Yankee fan. But there is.

You see: I'm a pedal-phile.

That's right. I... I can hardly bear to speak of this...

Ok, I'll just spit it out.

I don't drive.

Not just I don't have a car. I don't have a driver's license.

And perhaps most heinous of all: I have no burning desire to get one.

Most of the year, I bike everywhere. To work. To the YMCA. To the soccer fields. To the park. In the winter or on rainy summer days, I walk or take the bus.

This provokes diverse reactions from friends and colleagues. Occassionally, someone will say they admire what I'm doing and say they wish they could do the same. But reactions more frequently range from contempt to pity to bemusement.

I don't ask for pity and those who think I'm stupid for not driving can go jump off a bridge. But the 'bemusement' factor is the most curious. People seem to think it's a big deal that I don't drive. In general, it's not.

Maybe my friends and colleagues can't conceive of THEMSELVES not having a car. I understand this. They may have children. They may live in the country or in unwalkable suburbs. They may live 15 miles from where they work. Not having a car may be impractical or simply impossible for them.

But most of my friends and colleagues also know that I've gotten along fine without driving for the last 7 1/2 years, since I got back from Africa. It may be impossible for them but it's obviously not impossible for me. I get along just fine, thank you very much.

Not driving certainly has its disadvantages. When I have to walk or bike in the rain, it's particularly annoying; snow and cold aren't so bad. It's a bummer not being able to hop into a car and taking a road trip up to Montreal or a camping trip in the Adirondacks.

Friends and colleagues often remind me of these downsides when they "encourage" me to get my license or a car; though the wiser ones have realized that as a contrarian, badgering usually has the opposite effect that is intended. Yet, I've never gloated at them when they've complained about a $700 bill from the mechanic (about my transportation expense for two full years). When they complain about feeling totally paralyzed when their car's in the shop, I don't say a word.

Yet, when I get caught in the rain on my bike and come inside totally soaked, inevitably a friend or colleague will make some snide attempt at small talk by making the brilliant observation, "It's a little wet out there, isn't it?"

The most annoying part about not having a license or a car is the sheer presumptuousness of other people. Many seem to be under the illusion that I owe them an explanation for this fact. They offer unsolicited advice and expect me to be profoundly grateful and say, "I'll do that right away."

The fact of the matter is that I don't owe anyone an explanation. Though I frequently accept rides when offered, I rarely ask someone for a ride. I want to be self-sufficient precisely because I don't want people giving me the third degree about stuff that's not their business.

So if someone at your workplace bikes to work, understand that he or she not someone who needs to be patronized. If you're tempted to pity them, remember that they're not shelling out $2.20 a gallon for regular unleaded.