By Phyllis
Mass
"Texters have
the right of way," Mr. Oblivious Texter yelled, after I made the conscious
decision not to avoid the collision course we were on.
"And that would
be why?" I asked.
"Because we
can't see where we're going."
Are you as tired as I am of parting the
way like Moses did the Dead Sea every time a texter is about to crash into you
on the sidewalk?
Don't get me wrong, I like texting,
dining, cycling, stroller-dodging, rolling suitcases, and sidewalk shopping as
much as the next person. I just don't want to encounter them all at once on a
busy sidewalk.
But, in Philadelphia, we all end up
having to do with Sidewalk Tango, as we negotiate baby strollers,
bikers, texters, runners, skateboarders and sidewalk seating that hogs available
space. The fact is we have narrow sidewalks in this city that can barely
accommodate walkers, let along the legions that want a piece of pedestrians'
turf.
Texters aren't
the only ones who make you do the tango. Baby strollers as big as Escalades
also presume they own the right of way because, like river barges, they do not
have the same maneuverability pedestrians enjoy. Rolling suitcases have been
known to knock down anyone not as agile as a 100-meter sprint hurdler. And Uhuru, a non-profit furniture store
on Spruce and 13th streets, spills its massive furniture onto the street,
allowing only a small path for walkers who must do the tango to miss errant end
tables. I bet they feel their cause justifies their right of way, too. With all
this dodging and feinting, it's a wonder that orthopedic wards aren't filled to
capacity in this city.
The
Tango continues. Curb cuts at each corner make it easier for skateboarders and
cyclists to invade the sidewalks. Originally designed for the wheelchair bound,
they enable these conveyances to encroach upon space which was once the domain
of bipeds - and they sometimes force the wheelchair-bound to use the bike
lanes. Presumably there is a $300.00 fine for anyone caught riding a bike on
the sidewalk but it is to laugh. There is no evidence of enforcement.
With
bikers, I wonder what is worse: the ones who peddle up the wrong side of the
street, forcing you to dodge them as they approach, or the ones who ride with
the traffic and appear out of nowhere, over your shoulder, as they whiz
by.
Sidewalk
restaurant sprawl is something I don't understand. Sure it doubles the house's
seating capacity, which benefits the restaurateurs, but why would anyone wants
to dine on a narrow, dirty street, sucking up carbon monoxide fumes on a day so
hot you could cook entrées on the sidewalk? It defies logic. I love to
people-watch in Europe where the large buildings are recessed and set up for
dining al fresco, but
here? Bad enough that Parc's row of outside tables nestled close to the
restaurant allows a small path for pedestrians on Rittenhouse Square but it
also sets up an additional row of tables and chairs along the street end of the
sidewalk, forcing pedestrians to walk sideways or in the street. In New York
City, some restaurants are so desperate to provide outdoor seating that they
arrange tables on the median strip on Broadway. In the Dominican Republic
people dine on a beach while their server dodges two lanes of highway traffic
in order to bring them their order.
The last straw for me regarding
restaurant sprawl occurred when some people dumped a round table and four
chairs near the entrance to my Center City home. All kinds of fun things have
been dumped there in the past: Computers, lamps, beds, carpets, upholstered
chairs. Don't know who these people are, if they come from other parts of the
city, or if they are suburbanites who think any block in the city qualifies as
a burial ground for their unnecessary treasures. Furnishings have been known to
decorate our street until a neighbor or I call the sanitation police to haul
them off.
As
I exited my house one day recently, I was surprised to find four people sitting
around a table near the side of my house. I was even more surprised when they
motioned me to come over, ordered four Bud Lites and asked for menus. When I
explained that this was not a restaurant, they asked me if it was a private
club. I had joked with my husband about restaurants spreading out so far that
pretty soon they would encroach on our living space. Now, the joke was reality.
I
do have an idea on how to end the tango. Have the city convert bike lanes into
pedestrian-only lanes so those of us who just plain walk can reach our destinations without fear
of being slammed and maimed. Surrender the sidewalks to the cyclists,
strollers, texters, suitcase rollers and restaurants that have, de facto,
already taken possession of them. If that doesn't work out, I suggest a system
of chairlifts whereby by pedestrians can be shuttled to and from their
destinations high above the madding crowd. But that's a whole other story.
Phyllis
Mass does the Sidewalk Tango from her home in Center City.