November 21, 2009
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Roads
I love freshly paved roads. Recently, through a stretch of relatively undesirable real estate, judging by the boarded-up windows and houses in ill-repair, the city has repaved the roads.
With a light-absorbing black surface, the road grips one's tires with new found vigour, allowing a quiet and satisfying ride through once pot-hole laden stretches.
Somehow, it transforms the area from decrepit to a place with some modicum of hope.
I smile to myself, enjoying the change. Renewal for this city would come with no mean cost. It's been in such a protracted spiral into an everpresent gloom.
My car wheels onto the highway, and I find myself obeying the speed limit, staring off into dove-gray winter-ish skies. Age has that effect on you.
To my left, I notice a blur of black bobbing across the short concrete wall separating the flow of high speed traffic. My eye is drawn to it, as I accelerate to 70 mph. At the angle it makes with my vision, it looks like a rectangle of black rubber. But the bounce suggests something I find preposterous. It's a tire, spinning and bouncing in the opposite direction as my car.
As it passes my car, and into my rear view mirror, I find myself wondering what it might have been like had the tire, complete with metal hub, collided with my windshield. It looked as if it had flown free from a car traveling on the opposite side, with a velocity of around 30-40 mph. A collision with my windshield might well have been fatal.
What a morning.
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