Looking down from above
Aug. 23rd, 2007 10:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sinanjuThe first time I ever flew* it was a cross-country flight from Virginia to Idaho, with a change of planes in Chicago. That was about twenty-five years ago but I still remember peering out the window of the plane as we came into Chicago. The city--the suburbs, really, I suppose--stretched out as far as I could see. A grid of streets and buildings spread out for miles in every direction with an occasional baseball diamond visible to give me some sense of scale.
I remember looking at all those streets and thinking of the countless miles of electrical wiring and water pipes and sewage and waste pipes and storm drains and thinking, "It works." Sure, there's plenty to complain about in any city and Chicago is reputedly more corrupt by far than most--but damn it, it still works. If people starve or thirst or live in their own filth it's not because the city can't handle it. Even the poor have light with the flick of a switch, water with the twist of a tap. For all the failures that critics can point to, it works for most people most of the time.
And it's the end result of millions upon millions of individual choices. There's no master plan, no matter how much some people might like to think of themselves as queen bee, no matter how much or how little control the city, county, state or federal governments exert. Individual humans spending time and money and brainpower and physical labor built that city--and all the others--and maintain it. Their individual choices, which collectively establish a culture, are what will continue to maintain it...or not.
I remember thinking that there are no doubt a lot of people who'd look at this man made environment and be appalled. I wasn't. I was impressed as hell to see a machine so large which worked so well--and worked because millions of people chose to make it work.
I still am. I through in and out of Chicago again yesterday on my way home from Virginia. Air travel isn't the grand adventure now that it was that first time. I didn't pay as much attention--but I always look at the city below me as I'm arriving or departing, and I still marvel at what humans can do when we choose to cooperate.
*...that I remember. I'm told that I took a brief flight in a private plane as a very small child, but I have no memory of it.
I remember looking at all those streets and thinking of the countless miles of electrical wiring and water pipes and sewage and waste pipes and storm drains and thinking, "It works." Sure, there's plenty to complain about in any city and Chicago is reputedly more corrupt by far than most--but damn it, it still works. If people starve or thirst or live in their own filth it's not because the city can't handle it. Even the poor have light with the flick of a switch, water with the twist of a tap. For all the failures that critics can point to, it works for most people most of the time.
And it's the end result of millions upon millions of individual choices. There's no master plan, no matter how much some people might like to think of themselves as queen bee, no matter how much or how little control the city, county, state or federal governments exert. Individual humans spending time and money and brainpower and physical labor built that city--and all the others--and maintain it. Their individual choices, which collectively establish a culture, are what will continue to maintain it...or not.
I remember thinking that there are no doubt a lot of people who'd look at this man made environment and be appalled. I wasn't. I was impressed as hell to see a machine so large which worked so well--and worked because millions of people chose to make it work.
I still am. I through in and out of Chicago again yesterday on my way home from Virginia. Air travel isn't the grand adventure now that it was that first time. I didn't pay as much attention--but I always look at the city below me as I'm arriving or departing, and I still marvel at what humans can do when we choose to cooperate.
*...that I remember. I'm told that I took a brief flight in a private plane as a very small child, but I have no memory of it.
