324.3

The anxious joy of anticipation. It always began at the Tacoma Narrows. Coming around the bend before the bridge, the road dips. There is a white pedestrian bridge or small overpass or train track that spans across the freeway right before you can see the Narrows. In 30 years of driving to my aunt's house, I still don't really know what it is that goes across the freeway. All I see is a white blur at the top of my vision that gets overshadowed by the anticipation of seeing the bridge. It is a small detail that gets overlooked but is nonetheless a part of the whole picture. It might not even exist. I have been known to make stuff up.

There is something magical to me about the Tacoma Narrows bridge. It is a long, thin suspension bridge, a beautiful piece of architecture. I used to stare up at the towers and imagine standing up there with the wind in my eyes, about to take flight. The curving road and the hills on either bank hide the bridge from sight until you are almost on it. This astonishing reveal excites me every time I cross it. Large bridges can be scary for some people to traverse. The Narrows is great because it doesn't give you a chance to back out. By the time you see the bridge it's just about too late. Your'e crossing, buddy. Whether you like it or not.

The famous footage of the first Narrows collapsing runs through my mind every time I cross. Seeing the bridge sway in the wind and fall like a cheap model in a Godzilla movie had a profound effect on me as a child. But it didn't scare me. No, it thrilled me. I have always been drawn to violent images. In the days before disaster movie CGI effects where entire portions of the world get wiped out, that grainy film served to remind me of mankind's tenuous control over the natural world. Concrete and metal give the grand illusion of permanence when compared to our soft, squishy bodies. But our planet could easily scratch all of our structures off its surface like a scab.

And yet the Narrows also speaks to indomitable human spirit. Human beings will always try to surmount the most insurmountable obstacles. I guess it's a beautiful thing, our arrogance. It's gotten us where we are today. Wait. Is that a good thing? Hmmmm.

I'm pretty tired right now and I don't know if I want to be cynical or hopeful. Do they have to be mutually exclusive? I'm off on a tangent, anyway. The whole bridge thing was just an introductory paragraph in what was supposed to be a reflective essay about my family in Washington. But that will have to wait for another day. I love them too much to half-ass it when I'm tired. It's not like this is a college essay or anything. This is important.

One other thing: There are two Narrows bridges now, one for each direction of traffic. And the new one isn't even that narrow. What the fuck? Don't you know that you destroyed some of the magic, State of Washington?