You can get a new soul at the shoe repair store.
If you have time, you can get your watch repaired too.
Driving into New York City yesterday from Rye took 1.5 hours.
We saw several accidents because of the rain.
One poor soul went headfirst into a tree at 9:30 am.
We went out to make a house call for an old client.
Routine maintenance, touch up and repair.
Another job well done for the wood butlers.
“How do people do this every day?” asked my husband.
We sat in standstill traffic and looked out at the miles of stopped traffic in the other direction.
He knows how they do it.
We did have to drive daily at some points of our life.
It was draining and depressing.
We became numb.
What has this done to our National Psyche?
Have people become more frustrated partly because they transfer their rage at being cooped up in small boxes on wheels, moving at high speeds and sometimes dying before lunch, on the side of the road?
Departing from life on a public roadway is inglorious, as is taking leave of your immortal soul in a traffic jam.
It happened to my Grandmother, with a misstep off the curb, a car and an eternal journey.
Yesterday, Friday afternoon at 5pm, there was gridlock at the intersections.
We sat again, waiting for a chance to move.
As soon as we turned off the busy avenue, onto the side streets of Greenwich Village I relaxed.
The buildings became small, and the dreams became human.
We stopped at a traffic light and I looked around at the shops and pedestrians.
Oh! to have a small shop where a person can repair useful things, and then walk next door for a cup of tea on a tree lined street!
When I lived in Manhattan I did not drive for 19 years.
I wore out my shoes on the pavement.
My license expired during those years, and often we did not own a car.
Now I drive again, but cars make me nervous.
People driving make me nervous.
There are so many lost souls speeding through life in our demon chariots.