Go the distance!

When I named this blog "southern tales" I imagined I would write things about life in the south. So after pondering all the different subjects I could address (fried food, y'all, tornadoes, water shortages), I came upon the perfect subject this morning as I was driving to work: the distances covered by normal people on a daily basis.

Unlike Europe, there is no "getting on your bike", or "catching a bus" to go downtown and complete all your shopping in one easy trip. Here in Georgia, getting any kind of errand done means getting in your car and driving to various stores which are usually several miles apart. And even if they're not, American shopping plazas are set up in such a way that walking from one end to the other is nothing less than a survival trek involving culverts, missing sidewalks, and inattentive drivers. Just last weekend, I drove 9 miles and visited three different stores looking for a new lunch box, which I, unfortunately, did not find. I did, however, come home with several other products that I really did not need, like a new bracket for our flag pole and an easter bunny for a friend's daughter. But whenever I have to drive that far, I feel I had better come home with something, or else my trip was nothing but a waste of gas.
When I first moved here, I had the great intention of riding my bike everywhere. The first time I rode my bike to the nearest grocery store (a mere four miles away), however, I realized that there were really three categories of bikers in this part of the world: 1) the spandex-clad helmet-wearing sports-fanatic racers, 2) children with multi-colored helmets, streamers and little flags, and 3) homeless people, and that riding your bicycle in jeans, boots, and with a backpack was most likely to lead to a #3 categorization. Needless to say, since I refuse to wear spandex and a helmet, and nothing I can do can make me look like I'm twelve again, I have taken my car to the store since.
But, in a country where driving everywhere is the norm, and where nothing seems too extreme, I believe I have managed to break the mold when it comes to commuting. Even car-happy Americans are aghast to hear about my 90 mile-commute. In Europe, I would have opted to take the train, which would have enabled me to work (or sleep) on the way to the office, however, public transportation is simply non-existent in this part of the world. So I drive 1 hour and 40 mins each way, every day. I drive along beautiful pecan groves, cotton fields, "rib shacks", some gorgeous lakes and woods, and of course, an endless supply of roadkill. Thanks to NPR, I am always completely updated on the world's news, and thanks to the fierce storms we have been having, I have also become an expert on what to do when aquaplaning.
This dependency on my car is completely different from what I'm used to (suddenly, I find myself caring about getting it serviced), but as we say in Dutch "alles went!".