The most recent culture-war slappy fight involved transportation: Do you know anyone who drives a pickup truck, the vehicle of those who labor in the earth, the chosen people of God? Upstate of course is full of pickups, though my archetype of the country vehicle is the Volkswagen that Doug bought for $400, customized, then drove until it fell apart (its last incarnation was as a lumber wagon). But this for another time. In the city, the vehicle of choice is the subway, which is called the train.
Talk about old technology. With great fanfare and not a little mockery, the transit system opened a new short spur on the Upper East Side. The extension had only been on the drawing board for a century. How did all the other lines get built? There are 236 miles of routes, running from the North American mainland to the barrier reef of Long Island. What made it happen? Cheap labor? No safety standards? Will to power? Something produced a great spurt, on which the city has coasted ever since.
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