Geometry

Small pleasures can be had.

Last night, I and my rusty driving skills traveled through the I90 tunnels. Tunnels appeal to me for a number of reasons. The earth-clod-loving child in me has always been a big fan of moving cubic yards of earth. A lot of my wee time was spent in pre-Marine bliss: moving piles of dirt from one place to another, then back. Digging in the dirt (gardners, you know this is true) is fundamental. We must have a dirt gene planted deep within us.

For a time, one friend, when he was young, would rush home from school to continue his study in the promising field of digging to China. His parents didn't mind him destroying the backyard in this quest. Just so you know, he never reached China. He did continue to dig holes anywhere whenever possible and later added obsessive window breaking. He must have recognized windows as earth in another, more transparent form.

Tunnels aren't just about the displaced dirt, which would be a pretty conceptual pleasure. Like ordering a drink for the tiny umbrella. What entrances me is visual. Tunnels turn into a lesson on perspective. The dotted rows of lights stretch into the idea of infinity. I want to jump past the converging lines right into the conceptual nougat. Whether it's a vanishing point or a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, I want to be the first to have my picture taken there. Not happening, I know. Racing dogs never catch the mechanical rabbit either.

Space Operas have given us the silly, exciting idea of traveling at speeds greater than the speed of light. Who doesn't want to a) tootle around in outer space and b) watch physics bend to your will? Tunnels provide a slower imagining of the moment your ship begins to stop light and leaves the last marker in the universe behind. I expected that at any moment, I would shift from fifth gear to warp gear. To date, Honda has not yet made this standard equipment.

Tunnels are an opportunity to be encased within a pleasing geometry. Plus, at night within a tunnel, I get to think a favorite movie line to myself. My China-digging friend is the one who introduced me to the film Alphaville. It's a nutty, conceptual b&w sci-fi film set in Paris, the center of its universe. Automobiles on the roads leading out of Paris at night are likened to spaceships. As the film noir protagonist drives, he begins his thoughts with the phrase: "Hurtling through the darkness of interglactic space..." It's a giddy feeling which I think I share with many.