Getting That "George Baily" Feeling Again

Did you ever get the feeling that you were trapped in an alternate universe?

No, not the sort of science-fiction fantasy universe feeling that you get from playing waaaay too much World of Warcraft, and you wander out blinking into the daylight of the city streets, still looking for the trolls and gold coins. I’m more referring to the George Bailey sort of feeling, where you discover that the town has been renamed to “Pottersville”, and Nick the bartender no longer knows your name.

I get the George Bailey feeling A LOT.

I wake up every morning and walk alone down a narrow sidewalk, bordered by a steady stream of cars headed to the Lougheed Highway for the morning commute. I cross the intersection with my head up and alert, for visibility is low and the speeds are high and the flashing “walk” sign by no means guarantees my safety. From there, I cut through a grass field, cross the “ABC Family Restaurant” parking lot, and walk past over-grown empty lots and a car dealership to the West Coast Express Maple Meadows Station. The station platform itself is a little oasis in a parking-lot desert.

My trip home will not be much different. Usually I take a shuttle bus from the train station, which drops me off quite close to my house; but tonight I’m picking up pizza from a nearby Panago. This means more walking alone down dark, empty streets. I’ll probably jaywalk across the four lanes of Dewdney Trunk Road, pausing for safety on the concrete median. This little crime is motivated by the fact that pedestrian crossings are 500 meters apart, and I remain unconvinced that the extra distance to the traffic light will actually improve my chances of crossing unscathed.

It’s a solidly unpleasant trip.

It wasn’t always this way. There was a point in my life when I lived amongst a crowd of friends, and hardly ever saw a car. My commute was a 10-minute walk, and bicycles were ever-present. In the evenings I would stroll down wide sidewalks with my choice of dozens of restaurants; or catch the bus down to a movie theatre with some friends. I am, of course, referring to my days as a university student.




My former dorms at UBC


Over time, my living space has evolved from a communal dormitory, to a basement suite, to an apartment, to a townhouse, and finally to a single-family house in a suburban subdivision. At each stage, my ecological impact increased while my social connectivity decreased. It is costing me more and more energy and resources to live an increasingly isolated and difficult life.


It’s not that I went completely blind down this path, either. Each move I have made has been in order to relocate closer to school or work. I currently live in a place where my wife and kids can walk to work and school; and where shopping, restaurants, and church are all within easy walking distance. But with these shifts through the stages of life have come with an additional transition from a pedestrian-oriented urban world to a car-oriented suburban world. This new world was created for young families such as mine. It is largely expected, in my current society, that this is where I would raise my children. This is the world we have constructed for our kids. A world of minivans and car seats and trips to birthday parties located perversely in isolated industrial parks. A world of narrow or non-existent sidewalks and “hold my hand” as we cross the parking lot.



My current life.
(This intersection is on my way to the train station)


I am starting to think that my children would have liked my previous life better. What’s the point of having a nice big yard if they can’t safely cross the street?

George at least had the luxury of waking up from his Pottersville experience. It looks like I’ll have to fight my way out of this reality the hard way.