Taking the Ambiguity Out of Crossing the Street, Adding it back Elsewhere
We don't need the Space Needle looming overhead to know we're in Seattle. We count on the minutia of the built environment to constantly remind us where we are. The shape of the curb, the width of the sidewalk, the placement and condition of the news boxes all serve to inform us, again and again, that we're home. We're in Seattle--a warm and familiar place--where we have friends and responsibilities. We know we're expected somewhere and we'll be missed if we don't show because when we're crossing the street we see the little, white walk-y guy change to a flashing, red hand-y thing and we better get our ass out of the intersection before we get a stern looking at by the drivers waiting to turn. When the curbs roll up to the sidewalk at a different angle and they're painted blue or something and the bus pulls up with some payment box of the future that only accepts smart cards purchased with giant two-tone coins next to the driver we know, hey, we're in Vancouver or Shanghai or somewhere besides Seattle because what is this weird shit. Or if the crosswalk sign starts suddenly counting down to doomsday while we're in the middle of the street and we get all disoriented and don't know if we should dive back towards the curb from whence we came or if we should simply fall down in the street cursing the strangeness of it all. So not Seattle! Get us out of here!
These countdown crosswalk lights appeared at 1st and Marion recently. We're all discombobulated at an intersection that we thought loved us.

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