I realized after I posted yesterday’s entry that many of you didn’t read my previous blog, “Two to Three,” and that my excessively long and detailed entry about my perfect commute might be lost on you.
So, in case it wasn’t clear, a perfect commute is when I go from work to home, or home to work, without having to stop. This includes crossing every intersection on the fly and catching the subway train without having to wait (otherwise known as catching the train on “Brian Time”).
Part of the appeal of the perfect commute is the tiny probability of it ever happening. (The last recorded perfect commute I had was June 24, 2004.) In the suburbs, it would be the equivalent of catching every green light on the way to work.
The other part of the appeal is that in the City, I am so often just a single person in a mass of millions, so to have a perfect commute makes me feel that for just a moment the City is mine; that I am in rhythm with it, and it with me.
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