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easy place to go about one’s business on foot, and yet as far as I can tell, virtually no one does.3 Nearly every day, I walk to the post office or library or bookstore, and sometimes, if I am feeling particularly debonair, I stop at Rosey Jekes Caf233。 for a cappuccino. Occasionally, in the evenings, my wife and I stroll up to the Nugget Theatre for a movie or to Murphy’s on the Green for a beer, I wouldn’t dream of going to any of these places by car. People have gotten used to my eccentric behavior, but in the early days acquaintances would often pull up to the curb and ask if I wanted a ride.4 “I’m going your way,” they would insist when I politely declined. “Really, it’s no bother.”5 “Honestly, I enjoy walking.”6 “Well, if you’re sure,” they would say and depart reluctantly, even guiltily, as if leaving the scene of an accident without giving their name.7 In the United States we have bee so habituated to using the car for everything that it doesn’t occur to us to unfurl our legs and see what those lower limbs can do. We have reached an age where college students expect to drive between classes, where parents will drive three blocks to pick up their children from a friend’s house, where the letter carrier takes his van up and down every driveway on a street.8 We will go through the most extraordinary contortions to save ourselves from