A Culture of Convenience, or why I'd rather sit in traffic

note: I've removed the name of a product from this entry because this is a blog, not an advertisement.

Today I gave my mother a fresh stomach ulcer to mingle with the dozen-or-so others she's developed because of my impending move to New Orleans, Louisiana.

This one seems less severe than the "get your car inspected" ulcer, the "find a job" ulcer, and the "what neighborhood are you going to live in?" ulcer (the former two have since healed).  This one's only a "you should get an electronic toll transponder for the drive down" ulcer, but this one may linger.

For the cavemen and women who read my blog, the "transponder" is a brilliant little device that attaches to the windshield of your car and allows you to amble through toll booths without having to do the roll-down-window-while-fumbling-for-change-while-maneuvering-vehicle-through-traffic, difficult by acrobatic standards but bread-and-butter for so many NY-area commuters.

The technology is an example of my favorite kind of design: simple and incredibly useful.  It probably saves the average commuter many hours of life otherwise spent in traffic, and has saved countless millions of hair follicles from full-scale double-handed assault.  I use one regularly when I drive in my parents' car.

Having one would be a no-brainer for a daily commute to Queens or Northern Jersey, but for occasional use, I'd rather sit in traffic.  My reasoning on this one is obtuse and heady, but bear with me.

We're a culture addicted to convenience and ease.  So much industry and advertising is dedicated to making lives easier: electronic razors, restaurant delivery, e-mail, internet shopping, supermarkets.  Goods and desires are more accessible, inexpensive, and centralized than ever before.  With the right amount of equipment, money, and dedication, it is actually possible to survive without leaving bed for weeks.

I'm pointing out an extreme just to illustrate the point, but I think it's fair to say that many people live with far less inconvenience than was possible even a couple of decades ago.

Spare me the point-counterpoint here - it's obvious why in many ways this is a cultural current that most people are more than happy to ride.  But might there also be unintended and/or unfortunate consequences in a culture of convenience?  (spoiler alert: yes)  If we see less and less of the little inconveniences like traffic tolls, pharmacy trips, or snail mail (note the re-naming), how will we react to larger, less avoidable inconveniences like losing a job, breaking a leg, or the Department of Motor Vehicles?  On a cultural scale, what does it mean that we dedicate so much energy and resources to making our lives just a tad easier?

We have a choice, I think.  We can choose to see little inconveniences as purely dreadful - in some people I think this mentality actually causes extreme amounts of stress or anxiety - or we can see them as opportunities to practice a couple of important skills: patience and positive thinking.  If we train ourselves not to sweat the little things, the big things might not seem so devastatingly big.  If we can transform an hour stuck in traffic into an hour of quality conversation with a friend, maybe we can learn to see losing a job as an opportunity to find a new one that's more resonant with our passions.

Culturally speaking, a shift away from convenience, or at least a pause in the shift towards it, could open up people and resources to something more worthwhile.  I'm not going to push this point too much because the whole "worthwhile" question is a HUGE can of worms, and honestly, how often does our culture produce equitable/sustainable/healthy outcomes when we have an excess of something?  (read: corn, oil, bankers)  Still, always good to connect the personal to the cultural.

By no means am I suggesting that we shirk all convenience in the name of personal growth or some ethereal notion of cultural enlightenment.  We've all been trained to expect some level of comfort for most of our lives and un-doing that training would be a huge pain and probably a pointless one.  Becoming some kind of primitivist might help someone learn patience, but it might also make that someone come off as preachy or out of touch.  A person won't become an example of positive thinking if nobody is willing to bear witness.  One might find it enjoyable to live with fewer and fewer conveniences, but I think it's better to do such things out of actual gratification rather than stoic principle - joy is far more contagious than stubborn self-restraint.

Much gratitude for reading my elaborate rationalization on why I'm taking a pass on ease (you see what I did there, right?).  In the depths of my skull somewhere my unconscious is laughing maniacally because it knows that, in truth, I just can't be inconvenienced to drive all the way to Nyack to get a damn toll transponder.  No wonder I give my mother ulcers.