Affordability, Predictability, and Convenience

Last weekend ended in Ontario with family day on Monday.  As my wife and I do many family day weekends, we headed up to Ottawa to see our middle daughter, and her pets.  It was a lovely weekend, with the highlight probably being a skate on the Rideau Canal, the world’s largest skating arena.  The trip to Ottawa went markedly well, with even the trip through Toronto being pain free.  The trip home was a bit of a different story.

 

There were many hold-ups and back-ups on the 401, Canada’s busiest highway.  Undoubtedly this is due to the fact that most of the highway east of Toronto is the same size as it has been for many years, while the number of drivers increases without end.  All it takes is one person’s flat tire to bring things to a halt, which thankfully was not crashing in any way – but frustrating all the same.

 

My wife and I mused about the state of affairs with car travel on the drive home.  Cars are altogether convenient, affordable and (nearly) predictable.  As long as this is the case, people will not convert to public transit.  When public transit is cheaper than driving (and parking) a car; and when it is utterly predictable and convenient, people will make the switch.  Alas, people will not give up their cars simply because cars are bad for the environment.

 

I have chosen to take the train to work two or three days a week.  I don’t train on days when events after work mean the trip home would be quite a bit later than I want; and since I don’t pay for parking, and it is relatively cheap for me to drive; and the trip home is quicker than taking the train, I have to be quite deliberate in a decision to take what is reasonably convenient, affordable and predictable public transit.

 

Last Thursday I was waiting for a train that was 8 minutes late, and I kicked myself for not driving.  But the train arrived.  I took out my book as I took my seat, and as the train lulled me into that netherworld only accessible in the knowing that I need not worry about the next 20 minutes because they are in some else’s hand, I arrived at the place where I could say: “This is good.”

 

“This is good!” is, of course, a biblical phrase.  God speaks it as creation’s contours slowly fall into place, as the light relates to the dome in the sky, and the sky relates to the ground separated from the waters, and all of these relate to plants and animals and humans and more.  “This is good” is all about good relations, about being together. I experience a kind of being together, a conviviality on the train that I definitely do not experience on the 401, where we are buffered from one another by atomistic vehicles and speed.  But conviviality will not persuade us to switch

 

At the end of the day, affordability, predictability and convenience will rule the ride.

Slow TV

I remember calling my Mom in the winter months, in the later days of her life. I would often ask her what she had been doing when I called and she would say “Watching TV,” to which I would respond by asking what was on the television. She would tell me she had the fireplace channel on. I never did quite get that but as of late I have found myself watching “Slow TV” from Norway. I am now halfway through the 7 hour Bergen to Oslo trip. When I tell people, they generally think I am a few cars short a freight. I think differently.

First, I like trains. This semester, for the introduction section of the first day in class, I invited folk to speak about their favourite mode of transport. A good number spoke of trains, and their invitation to relax and see the scenery without worry about traffic etc. Trains are also (for now) low key modes of public travel without the security check etc. There is a kind of a comfort on a train that I do not experience with other modes of transport – aside from ferries.

But it isn’t only the “train” piece of the show that intrigues me. I am also reminded of my own trip from Oslo to Bergen and back by train some 30 years ago. I recall seeing people ski up to a stop, and take off their skis in order to get on, for a time, until the next stop. There is a kind of nostalgia in the show, I think.

Further to this, I like Slow TV as a push back against “reality TV,” which is so far removed from reality as to make a mockery of the real struggles that folk face in a real world not about an amazing race, or voting people off of an island, or some such inane theme. Reality TV seems, in significant ways, to contribute to a juvenile public and a dose of “real reality” seems fitting in these days – even in the mode of the mundane, the daily. It is good to see what people see who travel the lovely Norwegian country side – with sky touching fjord and mountain, and so inviting us to connect what is seen on television with what is seen during our own travels.

I also enjoy this show because it reminds me of my own pilgrimage in Norway some years ago. In some small way the show is an aide de memoire of that delightful journey that gave me occasion to be with dear friends, and make new ones. The paternal side of my family comes from Norway, and I find myself regularly drawn to things Norwegian in particular and Scandinavian in general. I can’t quite say it feels like home, to see the Norwegian country side fly by but it reminds me that I am from away.

I sometimes like watching television that does not aim to resolve a plot line, or mindlessly entertain, or sell a soft drink surreptitiously. The simplicity of the show is refreshing and reminds me of those twice weekly phone conversations with my mom. At the end of her days, life was slowing down and a fireplace was all she needed for entertainment. I am not there, but still, it is nice to watch the country side of my father that gives me occasion to remember my mother as well.

Thank you, Slow TV.