Editorial Comment

	Vol. 225 No. 1
PERRY A. FISCHER, EDITOR

The future of transportation. Sooner or later, most oilfield types will have to make a pilgrimage to Houston – the Mecca of the oil field. Can this city ever become one of the world's great cities, like London, Paris, New York or Tokyo?

I'm writing this on the eve of our mayoral election. The big issue is transportation. One candidate wants to double the amount of 22-lane highways, and build public transportation infrastructure more slowly; the other wants exactly the opposite. They both opine that Houston needs to become more like those great cities mentioned above. They both have 22-year plans, differing mainly on the rate that each transportation sector grows. Pragmatists? yes; but men of vision they are not. Traffic in Houston is growing at about twice the rate of the reported population, with congestion tripling during the last 20 years. The politicians are thinking 20 years. They need to think 80. I'm trying to visualize what four times the traffic would look like in 80 years.

This city, like many others worldwide, needs serious urban planning; higher population density; massive public transportation infrastructure, including monorail, train, trolley and bus; far fewer cars; plenty of bicycle parking; and more walking.

Most folks who drive in this town agree that no sooner is a highway completed than it's time to begin re-expansion. Highway construction is perennial. But you cannot pave your way out of this mess.

My doctor tells me I need to lose 30 lbs, that my Body Mass Index is 28. It's official: I'm fat. He said I need to walk more. Few in the US walk anywhere, fewer still in Houston. When you get off the plane in Houston, the first thing you notice is that the fat is ubiquitous; and I'm not just talking about a little plump, I mean sweaty, circumferentially challenged, diametrically opposed, gelatinous-like, quivering, well-marbled, fat people. You could shoot seismic if ten Houstonians jumped all at once, not that we could get off the ground.

So, I bought a treadmill, along with a black box that converts 12 V automobile current into household electricity. Now, I load the treadmill into my SUV, drive 10 miles to a beautiful park, unload the treadmill, plug the power converter into the cigarette lighter, and take a long walk in the park on the treadmill. That way, I don't actually walk anywhere. I'm from Houston. I hate to walk. I drive.

I was watching one of those TV news magazines such as 60/60 or 20 minutes. They were interviewing a psychologist to whom the automakers had paid millions of dollars. His task was to dissuade a man from buying a practical, affordable family sedan and instead buy a larger, more expensive car like the Bummer B1. A friend of mine has one of these monsters with special-order 22-inch wheels. I drove around in it. I have to admit, it's nice to be above everyone.

Considering what the psychologist was saying, it occurred to me that a pair of surface-to-surface missiles would look nice mounted on the front, giving you a sense of power. Of course, they'd be disabled, but there'd be a website that would sell you a kit containing the rocket fuel and a little piece of metal that can be filed according to the enclosed instructions which read, For informational purposes only. This would make the missiles fully functional. There's nothing that says, Get out of my way! quite as effectively as a pair of SS missiles looming large in someone's rear view mirror, especially when you're in a hurry to go for a walk in the park.