Thought That Came Unbidden

49. I’ve never owned a new car, and probably never will.

Yes, I finally did it. After my car finally ate itself this past fall I decided it was time to look for a new vehicle. I did the research on safety, drivability, and comfort (Consumer Reports) and on price (edmunds.com), and then I started the test driving.

The 2006 Honda Civic, while being gorgeously designed and appointed and having the extra added cache of being available as a hybrid, made me feel like I was in a clown car.

The Volkswagen Jetta was slightly bigger inside but all the stalks on the steering column (lights, turn signals) were oddly too short for the diameter of the wheel.

The Mazda 3 drove like a supercharged dream…and it was too damn small inside for a five door.

And then there is the Pontiac Vibe…the Vibe is a General Motors and Toyota collaboration. As near as I can tell from all my reading, it’s a GM frame with a Toyota engine, seats from the Toyota Corolla, which are uncomfortable as all hell for me, and styling from Pontiac (round gauges and red back lights among other things).

The Vibe, which is identical to the Toyota Matrix save for some exterior styling differences, is considered a small station wagon but it sits like an SUV, a bit higher above the road which gives you more visibility here in the land of drivable buildings. The problem is that it is a small station wagon, and I’m not ready to grow up.

So, after many test drives, and having to make small talk with way too many automobile sales associates, I finally decided to replace what I had with the newer version of itself.

2006 Acura RSX

Even now my baby sits at the curb, temporary tag and no residential parking sticker. Silly, isn’t it, the relationship Americans have with our cars? And yet, there is something sublime about a new one. Maybe this is what consumerism is all about, the joy of having done the research carefully and gotten not only the right tool for the right job but also something that is a little bit fun. Or maybe, just maybe, having a new car is just totally neat.

Either way, it’s definitely a kid on Christmas sort of feeling which I’m hoping will last even after the loan payment coupon book comes in the mail. Until then, I’ll be trying really hard not to get any speeding tickets.

As I stood on a street corner today in the deceptively strong January sunlight waiting for the light to change while absolutely no cars went by I had the oddest thought: why are traffic lights still on timed cycles?

We live in the golden era of infrared sensing technology. Your TV remote, your “keyless entry” on your car, the doors at the supermarket that open automatically when you step up, these things all use infrared technology to get a signal from one device to another. So why is it, then, that traffic lights are still running on an archaic system of timing that requires the periodic measurement of traffic flow and according adjustment to said programing? Why not a system of sensors that allows the lights to cycle dynamically giving the green where there is traffic and the red where there is none?

I know, I’m not urban engineer, but the thing of it is, I got to jaywalk across the street and go on to the post office while all those cars had to sit and watch the metaphorical tumbleweeds go by.

Just a random thought in brought to you by a cold January breeze.

One of many in an occasional series examining words, usage, grammar, punctuation, slang, and other aspects of this living thing we call English.

Despite the fact that English is a living, breathing, evolving language, Americans are getting horribly sloppy about some basic words and phrases that, in truth, take very little effort to master. Here are a few that have caught my ear recently.

‡ By definition only means sole, alone, singular. “One of the” implies a single member of a group. It is, therefore, impossible to be “one of the only.” You can be “one of” a few, or you can be “the only.” I used to accuse myself of overreacting to the misuse of this phrase, until I saw it in print in The Washington Post.

‡ Less and fewer are both comparatives: they make a comparison between to states of being. Each word has a specific rule that governs its use.

Less is used for amounts that can not be counted as individual items. It is used with what are referred to as “mass nouns.” Money, time, and pie are all mass nouns. “Jim has less pie than Mike” is perfectly grammatically correct.

Fewer is used to make comparisons that involve items that can be counted as singular units. Generally, these come as plural nouns: cars, books, oranges, shoes, slices, lovers; these are all “count nouns.” “Jim has fewer slices of pie than Mike” is, also, perfectly grammatically correct.

The principle reason why you hear and read things like “less calories” is that advertising copywriters like short words.

‡ Approaching the start of our fourth year of war in Iraq, we’re hearing a lot about individuals who are no longer on active duty in the service. It may just be my DC location but we hear from a lot of Marines who are no longer on active duty.

The only proper way to refer to these individuals is as former-Marines. The Corps mentality is that the only ex-Marine is a Marine who has in some way disgraced the uniform and has been dishonorably discharged. Arcane, I know, but that doesn’t keep it from bugging the crap out of me.

And that is our linguistic pedantry for the day.

References:

Grammar Practice: Choosing between less and fewer, Arizona State University students in English Education (pdf)

Is it really better to ask for forgiveness than permission?*

If it is, where is the cut-off line on the seriousness of transgression?

Random thoughts from a long subway ride.

* This rule does not apply to the running of a country.

It was the most pleasant 6 hours I ever spent in an airport, and given the weather we got today in DC – sleet, high winds both in gusts (up to 40 mph) and constant blowing (25 mph) – it’s probably a good thing that USAirways cancelled all their flights that use the little 50 seater regional jet.

And you know, if we hadn’t wasted the 25 minutes standing in the line at the check in desk only to be told that we needed to go to the ticket counter upstairs to see if we could get a refund on our non-refundable tickets, which we did (you have to give Useless Air that; they didn’t even flinch), we wouldn’t have been in line with the people we were in line with…funny, pleasant, looking on the bright side of a miserable situation people. One from Atlanta stuck in DC after a week’s business trip; one from Tampa with nothing more than a shirt and tie in a dry cleaning bag and copies of his resume in his zip up portfolio because he was in town for the day for a job interview.

We got to see the Diva in his big sunglasses and his fur (faux I hope) jacket and his overpriced Ugg boots have a tantrum at the counter. That was worth the price of admission. There was a little event managing (what bright light thought it was a good idea to put operational self-check kiosks in front of a staffed ticket counter? or was it just an experiment in adjusting the blood pressure of everyone waiting on the line to see someone blithely walk up to the counter after you’d been standing there for two hours only to realize he was headed for the computer terminal not the attendant?). And there were a few laughs. Plus full refunds!

Fortunately I did not have to hand out my for travel-use-only anti-anxiety meds like candy to the people in the line (more for me later!).

Unfortunately we did not make it to TGF’s sister’s wedding. And with any luck the back side of this weather won’t keep them from going on their honeymoon in Europe.

No matter what happens, Friday was yet another entry in the “you can’t get there from here, lady” tour.