I wanted to meet Peter Jerde in Chicago for lunch, which turned into a late lunch, which turned into dinner. Â Upon entering the greater Chicago area I encountered something I’d largely missed so far on my trek across vast open landscapes and barely tamed wilds: traffic. Â It was novel at first, the idea of having a car immediately in front of me that was moving at a speed of less than 10 miles per hour seemed neat. Â Maybe I could get out of my car and greet them, see how their driving was going, but as the slowness entered the second hour of moving 7 MPH or less I became…unaffected. Â While being passed by a windblown Arby’s bag was disheartening, having driven about 10,000 miles, the context of traffic was a temporary inconvenience that moved my average speed for the entire trip down on the order of a tenth of a mile per hour, I’ll live.
Pants and I met at a Wendy’s where we were both hoodwinked by a savvy salesperson. Â We were both asked “medium or large” a false choice as small was also an option but a question to which everyone I heard picked one of these two. Â Tricky. Â We ate, he showed me his Prius modifications and I shortly thereafter left for Fort Wayne, a 2.5 hour drive. Â I was cruising along thinking I’d get to Banks’ house shortly before midnight, the time I’d told him I’d arrive when he shot me a text asking me where I was. Â Oh. Â Crap. Â Prior to 2006, Indiana didn’t observe DST, making it effectively in the Central Time Zone when the rest of the country was under DST. Â In 2006, Indiana started observing DST again, a fact I forgot, making me an hour late. Â I floored it. Â I screamed across towns and Rt. 30 shaving minutes off of my route… until I hit a speed Â trap about 3 minutes from Banks’ house, erasing any semblance of a benefit from my speeding. Â The ticket was for $181, but again context, a mere 1.5 cents a mile.