i dreamt i survived a plane crash last night. it had been on a small jet that had made several aborted take-off attempts. as i sat in my seat, i had a premonition that things were not right. i knew that i was going to die.
. . . . . . .
let me go back to as far back as i can remember. in the dream.
a small airport in a northern city. looking out through its windows, i could see green mountains as well as pine trees.
there were only a few shops in the terminal. i remember browsing the newspaper stand, looking for spearmint chewing gum.
the queue at the gate was informal. an air of casualness that is typical of small-town airports.
airport employees had that provincial look about them. hairstyles out of date, they were a bit too tan for this time of year. i imagined that when the airport personnel are done boarding this flight, the place closes down for the day and they all drive into town to resume some second job that they might have. perhaps the ticket checker works at the convenience store or the local hotel. surely, i thought, this can’t be a full-time job.
after presenting one’s ticket, there was a brief descent down a flight of stairs before one walks directly out onto the tarmac.
it was springtime. i could smell the wet soil from a recent rain while steam rose up from the runway.
the sun sat low over the horizon.
at the end of the short runway, and there was only one runway, there was a chain-linked security fence located a few hundred yards before a tall stand of fir trees. beyond that, a development of grey, concrete high-rise buildings ensconced before a tree-covered mountain ridge.
there was a municipal park nearby, right next to the airport. i saw kids running around.
i stood in line to board with my work colleagues. i remember being one of the last passengers to step onto the rolling staircase that lead up to the plane’s entrance.
it was an older model, a three-engine plane (one on each wing, one on the tail).
. . . . . . .
i sat towards the rear of the cabin, on the right side of the plane. middle seat.
on the tiny television monitor found on the back of each passenger seat, i watched the pilot’s point of view, as the plane turned at the end of the runway and prepared for take-off.
the engines became loud. we moved forward.
with the plane’s acceleration, i made a simple wish, as i always do: i closed my eyes and asked to arrive safely.
i looked out through the oval-shaped window. we were not moving fast enough.
on the monitor, i saw the end of the runway approach and then felt the plane slow down, braking hard.
we came to a stop.
the captain’s voice could be heard on the p.a., apologizing for the aborted take-off.
passengers around me joked and there was nothing to suggest that anyone was unnerved.
the plane retraced its route on the tarmac, turned around, and prepared to take-off once more.
flight attendants took their seats.
within a few seconds of starting down the runway, i saw kids running out onto the tarmac.
the plane came to a sudden halt.
i watched as airport officials chased the children away. some of them were scooped up by a security guard and placed onto a yellow open-top airport utility vehicle. one boy managed to ride off on his bicycle. passengers laughed.
by this time, there was a bit of a circus atmosphere onboard. vociferous chatter. amusement. i realised that many of us had been drinking while in the terminal. it was oddly festive.
i felt nervous. i tried to remember the passenger bill of rights. am i entitled to insist on disembarking after two aborted take-off attempts? what are the rules?
a few friends from work sat in the row in front of me. one of them turned to me and pushed my shoulder. i smiled meekly. i was sweating.
the plane moved forward again, accelerating quickly. my eyes glued to the monitor.
a few passengers stood up, got out of their seats, and bum rushed the front of the plane. they were fooling around, like idiots who stand up on a moving roller coaster. two flight attendants intervened.
on the monitor, i could see the end of the runway. the pine trees. the high-rise buildings.
the plane lifted upwards. it seemed to climb so slowly.
wheels up; the sound of the landing gear folding back into the plane’s underbelly.
i stood up, jumping out of my seat, landing on the aisle.
we were not moving fast enough to clear the trees. i heard the piercing sound of metal being ripped, of passengers yelling. i was standing. everything shook. it was very very loud.
the plane rocked violently, as i tried to balance myself between the seats in the aisle.
suddenly there was a gaping hole in front of me. the plane swerved from side to side, and as the plane banked hard to its right, i fell out. other passengers fell too.
i saw handbags, a seat, a jacket, and shoulder bags empty out of the plane.
i was flying through the air. i don’t know how fast. i was moving forward and falling, towards the top of some of the pine trees.
i was thrown towards a hefty branch, i reached out to put my arms around it, bracing for impact and somehow held on as the tree bent forward towards the ground. i felt a dull thud on the left side of my face as i fell and landed on soft earth.
i looked skywards, finding the plane. it was still airborne, moving away from me, upside down, its red tail towards the ground. it cleared a low-lying mountain ridge, then disappeared from view.
i expected to hear a boom and then see an explosion. i saw no such thing.
there was no such sound.
i was in a field.
i saw someone lying on the ground, maybe one hundred feet away. listless.
i ran.
i scrambled up a hillside, hoping to reach the top of the ridge.
i ran through trees. cedar trees. spruce. uphill. pine needles on the forest floor.
i don’t know how long i had been running but i reached a mountain river.
to ford it, i could scramble over granite rocks. there was a chain link fence on the other side. further away, the ridge.
i realised that i must be in a secured public watershed. i reached the fence and tried to scale it. there was an electrical wire running along its top.
i gave up, and ran parallel to the fence instead, moving south on uneven terrain.
i ran for a while.
i found a service road.
there was a pick-up truck and a park employee working nearby.
i asked him to let me out.
he looked at me suspiciously.
he pointed out that i was bleeding.
there was blood on my chest, and blood on my forehead.
i tried to explain that i had just been in a plane crash, and that i was looking for the plane.
“it must be just over that ridge,” i offered, “in the valley next door.”
“there is no valley. there’s just another ridge, just more mountains.”
“i need to find that plane.”
i thought about my wife. i wondered if she knew. i wondered if she already thought that i was dead.
“i need to reach that plane.”
“get in the truck. i’ll give you a lift.”
. . . . . . .
as we drove downhill, i could not stop thinking about my wife. did she know? was she suffering?
the truck’s service radio was on. i could hear commotion. orders were being given, people were being directed to a crash site.
. . . . . . .
i never saw the plane. i never saw the crash.
the dream-state slackened, my body stirred.
i tried to stay within the dream.
i kept on thinking about the field.
where i landed.
the golden field. tall grasses. late sun.
the scent of jet fuel, the taste of blood in my mouth.
the tree.
it was damaged.
i saw myself in it.
suspended lifelessly over a limb.
was that me there?
had i not survived?
how would i tell adriana?
where was my phone?
as i began to wake, i could not determine if i was alive.
how had i made it to the top of the ridge?
i spoke to that man. he spoke back.
i had survived a plane crash. i had walked away. i lived!
but what if i died and was now walking amongst the living?
i was awake. staring at the ceiling, trying to open the door to return to the dream state.
i was awake. the sound of the city around me.
i could not return.
parking philosophies of new york city
brooklyn, new york city
this morning, adriana and i discovered that we have very different approaches to coping with alternate side of the street parking rules here in new york city. anyone who parks their car on the street in this city knows that it is necessary to move the car at least once a week, to allow for street cleaning. some people have to move the car twice or three times a week.
though it is a routine aspect of living in new york, moving the car, or reparking (to identify this behaviour more accurately), can be quite a disruption, and considering that the first parking ticket is now upwards of $100, the consequences of neglecting this responsibility can even be quite severe.
since the car that we have is going to be used very infrequently, the question is: what is the best strategy to cope with the street parking rules?
after contemplating our differences on the matter, i decided to consult the oracles on the internet to see what i could learn.
two hours were invested into the research of different coping mechanisms with the experience of owning and parking a car in brooklyn, yet, in short, i failed to find much information that immediately addressed our simmering debate. i did, however, find valuable pieces of good sense, which i shall share further down below.
but now, i’d like to unveil the two competing philosophies of the day, as put forth by myself and by adriana, with the hopes that this might open up a useful discussion that can help us decide which tactic is best for us.
our approaches to street parking differ in the following ways:
since street cleaning only occurs twice a week on our street – and only once per side – i would rather move the car during the period in which the street is actually cleaned – with the idea that the car would only need to be moved once a week – and so i would plan an errand involving use of the car during the window in which one is not permitted to park on that side of the street, then return after the completion of the errand to find an available parking spot on the same block and same side of the street where the car was parked before (i.e. the home zone). with that, i would be done with having to worry about parking the car until the next street cleaning cycle, that is, until another 6 days and 22 hours. the advantage of this approach is that it is predictable and can be factored into one’s calendar as part of a regular weekly routine. the disadvantage is that it involves at least two hours of a weekday morning during working hours, which have to be dedicated to either running errands, or sitting in the car while conducting other kinds of business. another disadvantage is that one is each time dependent upon finding a parking spot in the home zone (the same general area, on the same side of the street), in order to stick with the routine.
adriana’s approach means parking the car wherever there is an available spot, regardless of whether or not she parks in the home zone, though presumably within a half-dozen blocks of the apartment, then moving the car each time it is necessary to accommodate the street cleaning rules. the advantage with this philosophy is that she parks wherever there is a spot available, and, in theory, there should be more spots available to suit her needs so she would spend less time looking for parking spaces. the disadvantage is that the car will have to be moved more times during the course of the week – because it will likely be parked in zones that have different “no parking” hours than the home zone on our street. using this approach will require greater awareness of the street cleaning times, in order to avoid tickets and towing, and because of that, it will most likely involve more frequent re-parking of the car and a higher likelihood of parking tickets.
with regards to those two hours of research spent online, perusing forums and blogs, i did find other nuggets of wisdom as it relates to parking and owning a car in the fair city of brooklyn. here is what i have distilled:
* primo spot is a website service that will help you find street parking as it becomes available in your neighborhood, provided that you live in new york city; http://primospot.com/
* it seems like a fair amount of people in brooklyn heights / cobble hill have not had issues with car theft or property damage to their car.
* that said, a common refrain is that it is a good idea to have a vehicle recovery system (lo-jack or similar) in the car, “even if it’s in a garage in the city, since many insurance companies take that into account in determining any discounts. it might be worth the investment since it would pay for itself in the reduced premium increase you will have in keeping the car in the city.”
* “the city is very harsh on cars, even if they’re just sitting parked. invariably you come out to find it with a new dent, trash on it, even someone living in it.”
* “if you don’t really have to drive in new york, don’t. get the professionals to do it for you - a cab, a car service - or at the very least, a friend or relative who is a local.”
* “free curb side parking in brooklyn is not the best thing. i’ve been broken into twice in the last 4 years. and if you live in a neighborhood like cobble hill, you will NEVER find a spot unless you come home from work EARLY and not move your car until the next day.”
* “If you leave it on the streets you will end up having to move it constantly with alternate side of the street parking, you may end up paying more in tickets than you would for a garage, i GUARANTEE it will get dinged up very quickly, and then there is always the risk of theft and vandalism.”
* a couple in their early 40s, living in brooklyn, with perfect driving records, excellent credit, and a ‘boring’ vehicle will pay a minimum of about $1700 per year in car insurance, based on what i’ve deciphered. paying upwards of $2000-$3000 per year is not unusual.
* technology is currently being developed that will allow parking meters to enforce themselves. parking meters of the future will be able to automatically generate parking tickets; recognize when a vehicle has left a parking space so that the meter time can be reset to zero; recognize when a vehicle has exceeded the time limit so that the meter cannot be fed. that is pretty intimidating.
* finally, according to the new york times, several studies have found that cruising for curb parking generates about 30 percent of the traffic in central business districts. “in a recent survey conducted by bruce schaller in the soho district in manhattan, 28 percent of drivers interviewed while they were stopped at traffic lights said they were searching for curb parking. a similar study conducted by transportation alternatives in the park slope neighborhood in brooklyn found that 45 percent of drivers were cruising.
over the course of a year, the search for curb parking in this district created about 950,000 excess vehicle miles of travel — equivalent to 38 trips around the earth, or four trips to the moon. and here’s another inconvenient truth about under priced curb parking: cruising those 950,000 miles wastes 47,000 gallons of gas and produces 730 tons of the greenhouse gas carbon dioxide. if all this happens in one small business district, imagine the cumulative effect of all cruising in the united states.
what causes this astonishing waste? as is often the case, the prices are wrong. a national study of downtown parking found that the average price of curb parking is only 20 percent that of parking in a garage, giving drivers a strong incentive to cruise. as george costanza once said on “seinfeld”: “my father never paid for parking, my mother, my brother, nobody. … it’s like going to a prostitute. why should i pay when, if i apply myself, maybe i could get it for free?”
like george costanza, drivers often compare parking at the curb to parking in a garage and decide that the price of garage parking is too high. but the truth is that the price of curb parking is too low. under priced curb spaces are like rent-controlled apartments: hard to find and, once you do, crazy to give up. this increases the time costs (and therefore the congestion and pollution costs) of cruising.
and, like rent-controlled apartments, under priced curb spaces go to the lucky more often than they do to the deserving. while the car owner with good timing can enjoy his space free or cheaply for hours or days, others who are late for a meeting or a job interview are left to circle the block, making themselves — and other drivers — miserable. the solution is to set the right price for curb parking.”
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and now, i’d like to open up the panel for discussion and your contribution.