A car in NYC? CRAZY!

I didn’t need a car. There is a certain cache to living in New York City and not having a car. People from other parts of the US are stunned when I tell them I live in NYC and I don’t have a car. “How do you get around,” they would ask. Some went as far as, “How do you live without a car,” as if one isn’t living unless you have a car. I love my friends in Los Angeles.

The subway and buses serve me quite well in NYC despite strikes, long waits and at times unsavory passengers along for the ride. Mulch bags are heavy though, making Home Depot trips awkward. The full size carpet adventure on the L train was just rude. “Let’s go up-state,” meant the 1 train to Yonkers.

I wanted a car. What better vehicle than my 13 year old college car? With 160,000 miles and preserved in my dad’s garage for five years, I’ve resurrected my 1994 Honda Civic Si. Big highway miles in Texas led to canyon carving runs and Friday night import drag racing in Los Angeles. Certainly used and possibly abused in the best ways, the Honda would make the perfect choice for the beating of NYC. I truly mean beating.