I've been thinking about my earlier post... as Rome burns, what can I do to not be one of the fiddlers?

I live in the burbs. I moved here for a job, which made sense then, and two layoffs later, I'm now a freelancer. I could live anywhere, except that my family is established here, we have a great loan on a house we bought 10 years ago. It might make carbon sense to move, but it would be finanical suicide, and very hard on the family.

So here we are in the burbs.

My kid has a swim lesson less than a mile away, at a neighborhood pool, twice a week. We could bike, in theory, except that there is honestly no safe way to do it. I could take to the roads with my 8-year-old (quite wobbly) cyclist, except for the place the bike lanes end, and where we cross a major arterial road in rush hour with no crosswalk or traffic light, to get to the pool.

I could go lobby the county (overstretched suburban county with far more priorities than one noisy mom). I could adorn my daughter and myself in flags, reflective vests, stickers, and lights, and hope no one kills us. Or I could join the masses and take the car.

I like biking. My kids like it. They're becoming more confident cyclists. But I'm not prepared to sacrifice my kids to the next cell-phone-yakking driver when we have to cross a busy road. We bike some places, but not as many as we could.

Once again, practicality outweighs my environmental conscience. I want my kids to learn to swim. I want to use my neighborhood pool that my taxes support. The only reasonable way to get there is in the car.

Most family practice docs that I know of are serious slaves to the clock, because of insurance billing. They rush in, harried, get five minutes tops with each patient, and rush out to the next one. No chance to chat, no chance to ask more about anything, no chance for the patient to take a breath and ask that question that's been bothering them. There's no billing code for "general patient conversation." Add that to the low-on-totem-pole mentality, high debt, crazy hours, and general insanity of medical school, and being a specialist would look quite nice. Can't say I blame them.

(Sorry, this is a repeated rant for me).

Offshore drilling, like biofuels, allows us to preserve the fantasy that we'll all be driving our private cars of some sort or other, forever.

The boring stuff that I'm thinking of, requires us to stop thinking that way. What if all that offshore drilling legislation/money/effort went to sidewalks, bike lanes, pedestrian/bike crossings, strategically placed park-and-ride garages, and public transit agencies?

I know. Ho hum. Bo-ring. We'd rather daydream about driving our cars forever than really change our actions.

I'm a firm believer in "If you build it, they will come."

My neighborhood bike shop is doing a land-office business this summer. Even in the land of terrible suburban infrastructure, his mechanics are all busy, people are dusting off old bikes and getting tune-ups, they're buying new bikes, they're buying tires, gadgets, helmets, etc. Very cool.

Unfortunately, also very boring.

Nuff said.

Those people in your life, your friends, the people you know from volunteering, (not talking family yet here, just everyone else), your neighbors, the weird kid with the glasses on your street who knows your name... they'll all be gone. OK, some will be on your Christmas card list, but that's it.

Of course you'll still have your family, but they'll be on the phone and in email, and if you're lucky you'll see them once a year.

Think about it the other way around.

What if, in your comfortable, comfy home, you lost your job? It happens all the time. Your company gets sold to a conglomerate in Outer Slobovia, they shut your office, thanks, bye.

Chances are, your support network will be there in an instant to help. They'll give you chicken soup, a shoulder to cry on, help, resume advice, and even in a pinch, money to help on your mortgage when your unemployment runs out.

You can't buy that. You can't even rent it. It takes years and years to build it.

And then add in all that stuff about not being able to afford a house, and not liking California. Those are all valid, rational, sensible reasons to say no. But the biggest reason to say no is the people in your life.

You're happy where you are. So many people can't say that. So stay and be happy. If you feel the need for adventure, book a backpacking trip to Mongolia, take up skydiving, get your hair dyed purple, whatever. But don't move.