The Autistic Me

As September ended I was involved in what seemed to be a minor traffic accident. I was rear-ended while driving our 18-year-old Jeep Cherokee. Unfortunately, the accident was too much for the Jeep: the frame was bent by the impact. The Jeep was the "real" last Cherokee Classic. Not a Sport. Not cheap decals of the model name. A 4.0L in-line six-cylinder 4-by-4 we took off-road and used for everything. It hauled furniture, cats, trees, bikes, friends, and family. Over the 18 years, it was like a family member. We knew it couldn't last forever, especially since moving to states with salted roads in the winter. But, we wanted it to keep running for another two or three years. Losing the Jeep is weird. I knew how it should sound. I knew how the steering and braking should feel. I could recognize its engine when my wife drove it to and from work. Now, it's sitting in a lot, waiting to be hauled away to an unceremonious ending. It doesn't seem fair, for some...

Driving has been causing back pain, which leads to headaches, and some of those headaches become migraines. A migraine is not merely a bad headache, either. I don't mind driving on fairly flat, smooth, un-congested routes. The problem is that the roads where we live go over and around hills. The weather creates potholes that are small craters. Traffic is heavy, on streets never designed for the number of cars. Basically, driving in and around the city is a nightmare for my mind and body. By the time I reach work, I'm exhausted. Getting home, after a long day, I'm ready to sleep. On the way home, I celebrate the moment I cross from one county to the next, because the roads improve. The road noise decreases and my head hurts a little less. Someday, I want a luxury car just for the reduced noise.

I don't generally speak of it, but driving on the shortest Interstate between Pittsburgh and our house upsets me most times. But, it saves about 20 minutes if I'm in a hurry to get home. I need to decide between the emotional stress, the memories it triggers, and the convenience of getting home quickly. (The "quick" route is only fast when driving toward home — it is the worst imaginable path into the city.) Usually, I'll opt for the circuitous (and less stressful) drive that takes me on three different Interstates and two state routes. The problem is, there's no way skip around the symbols (and traffic signs) that upset me if I want to go to the best grocery store, bookstores, music store, restaurants, and a good mall. So, I feel lousy getting to whatever I want to do. That's hard to explain to other people. If I could clear my mind, and ignore the signs that upset me, that would make life more comfortable.

I learned in Minneapolis that congested freeways and surface streets can contribute to migraines — fairly quickly, too. Since I lived in Los Angeles, and I happen to like driving there, I've been struggling to explain why some cities give me a headache and others do not. In a previous post, I explained that I like grid-based cities. But, that alone isn't enough to explain the migraine triggers. Los Angeles is not a great grid and the traffic is notoriously slow. Los Angeles drivers deal with mountains and coastline. The "grid" of L.A. is messy, but navigable for some reason. My wife noticed that it might be the attitudes of drivers. In Los Angeles, despite the city's image, drivers have been fairly nice. The infamous ramp from I-5 to State 110 (Golden State to Harbor Freeway) near Dodger Stadium is actually not bad after my experiences in other cities. As you exit 5, traffic is two lanes. (I long ago learned to use the "merge lane" as long as possi...

Driving is okay when there is little traffic and I know the route by memory. I do not like driving on busy streets or highways and I hate driving on narrow roads or in cluttered urban settings. I also hate, truly despise, highways or freeways without sufficient exits and places to turn around when necessary. I hate driving in Pittsburgh, enough so that I shake and get a headache after passing through the Fort Pitt Tunnel. I hate narrow, enclosed, claustrophobic tunnels. Two lanes, horns sounding, and tailgating. Horrible. Today, we drove to Cranberry. I hated the last trip there and needed two days to recover. I hate the fact beautiful hills are being covered with townhouses. Narrow two-lane roads are trying to accommodate a flood of new arrivals. Yes, the economy in Butler County is doing well, but the roads and spaces were never meant to handle so many people. We planned the trip ahead, knowing I hate the toll booths and most of the Turnpike, which is in a constant state of repa...