Suburban Nation - Andres Duany [52]
Most elderly are neither infirm nor senile; they are healthy and able citizens who simply can no longer operate two tons of heavy machinery. The phenomenon of suburban auto dependency is not just a theory for these people. It is the reason why we see otherwise reasonable men and women falsifying eye exams and terrorizing their fellow motorists. They know that the minute they lose their license, they will revert from adulthood to infancy and be warehoused in an institution where their only source of freedom is the van that takes them to the mall on Monday and Thursday afternoons.
Winter Park, Florida, a NORC (Naturally Occurring Retirement Community): senior citizens can remain self-sufficient when their environment does not force them to drive
It should not be surprising that contemporary suburbia, with its strict separation of land uses, has inadvertently segregated the elderly from the rest of society. Prior to 1950, there were few if any retirement communities in the United States; they did not exist, because they were not needed. The elderly would almost always stay in their old neighborhoods after retiring. Once they lost their ability to drive, they could still maintain a viable lifestyle by walking, even if slowly. The ladies pictured here have the good fortune of living in Winter Park, Florida, a small city built in the late nineteenth century. In such a place, where housing and shopping are in close pedestrian proximity, they can remain independent until they become infirm. This option is simply not available in today’s suburbs.
Acknowledging the conveniences that traditional urbanism offers the elderly, sociologists have recently identified what they call a NORC: a Naturally Occurring Retirement Community. Amateur observers have another name for it: a neighborhood full of older people. Winter Park, Florida, is one such community, as is the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Many American cities have their NORCs, where a disproportionate number of the better-off elderly have moved in order to realize the benefits of retiring in a mixed-use, pedestrian-friendly environment. One hopes that this sort of self-sufficiency does not become the exclusive privilege of the upper classes.
WEARY COMMUTERS
Suburbia clearly is not an empowering environment for that third of the population that cannot drive. What of the two thirds that can, and the lucky minority that can afford multiple cars—has their lot improved? For people who do not particularly enjoy driving in traffic, the answer is probably no.
How Americans must spend their free time
The largest segment of the population inconvenienced by sprawl is undoubtedly the middle-class commuter. Here, the degradation may not be as severe as it is with the young or the elderly, but the statistics can be quite unsettling. Say you live an hour’s drive from your job. You would be spending a minimum of 500 hours per year in your car, the equivalent of twelve work weeks. In a society that provides its citizens only two to three weeks’ annual vacation, that is a dismaying figure.
Early in the twentieth century, the labor movement secured for Americans the eight-hour day, an idea that was embraced as a powerful contribution to the quality of life of the average citizen. What the eight-hour day accomplished, essentially, was to liberate about two hours daily for the pursuit of happiness. These hours meant different things to different people. Some spent them on family or community activity, others at sport or in a café, others reading, or in recent years—for better or for worse—watch—ing television. In any case, these two hours provided middle-class workers with the opportunity to experience leisure on a daily basis.
Now, largely because of suburban land-use patterns, the eight-hour day has once again become the ten-hour day. These two hours, once the most interesting, varied, socially productive hours of the day, have become some of the most stressful and unpleasant. They were not so