Back in the High Seat Again

Date: 15 October 2010

Day of Chronicles: 3
Hours: 4:30-6:00pm, 7:00-8:00pm
Rides Given: 2 (not counting the arranged ride in the middle of the night)

I've been away from New York for a week, visiting friends in Midcoast Maine, and away from pedicabbing for almost two weeks. Yes, upon returning to crowds and grime, after immersion in fresh air and open space, I wondered why I live here. I often wonder why I live here. There's not much space for food-growing, and what food I do grow is beleaguered by auto exhaust and heating oil ash. Humans, and human-made sounds (whose jagged waves, I read recently, are harsher on the ears than the rounded waves of nature) predominate. At work, a constant stream of vehicles screeches towards the Tunnel; at home, the Rock Rose building's monstrous HVAC system roars in the background.

And that is one of the reasons I decided, once again, to try pedicabbing: If you can't beat the deafening human presence, you might as well join it. If the thought of shoving your way through Times Square at rush hour gives you the willies, why not turn that crush to your advantage? The larger the crowd - the more overwhelming the crush - the better the chance that a pedicab driver will find a taxi seeker desperate enough to entertain a pedal-powered alternative.

Today was hard. I'd lost momentum. I had to rebuild my confidence in a practice that was seeming, as a result of a couple weeks' dissociation, thoroughly surreal. Luckily, I was able to partake in an arranged ride, so I was guaranteed to make something. In addition, I rustled up two other rides (one to The View, which I discovered was not a hotel, and the other to the gypsy-bus-to-New-Jersey side of the Port Authority). I'm chalking this evening up to easing back into things; tomorrow, I have reason to believe, I'll do better. 

One question I'd like to remember, in hard times to come: What can I contribute? It's pretty easy to get caught up in feeling worthless, when the tenth person tells you she wants to go fast, or stay warm, or go far, and therefore needs a gas-guzzler. It's a bit harder - but far more rewarding - to focus on finding someone in search (consciously or not) of my services. Higher power, grant me the serenity to accept the people who insist on a gas-guzzler no matter what, the courage to persuade those who are open to pedal power, and the wisdom to know the difference.