Walking my baby back home
August 2009
When I was about five years old there was a popular song I remember hearing on the radio. The tune was catchy, and I quickly learned the lyrics. It went like this: “Gee but it’s great / after being out late / walking my baby back home. / Arm and arm / over meadow and farm / walking my baby back home.”
I pictured a man pushing a baby carriage and walking home at night. I was too young to realize “my baby” was the man’s girlfriend.
The song is embedded in my brain, and it came to mind the other day as I was walking downtown. I started to think about the lyrics. They described a late night, after perhaps a movie or party, when the man and his date were walking home. Not driving, walking. They were walking a long way in a somewhat rural setting, “over meadow and farm.”
Can you imagine someone doing that today? How far did they walk one way? A couple of miles? Farms and meadows were a lot closer to town in the 1940s than they are today. I grew up in such a town, and there were indeed farms within the city limits and more farms and meadows within two miles of downtown.
Today, most of us think we have to drive everywhere. That’s what we’re used to. That’s what we’ve done all our lives. But the song is testimony that there is another way. A way that some of us could take.
Have you ever considered going to an event, friend’s house, or movie that is up to two miles from your house on foot? It would take you about half an hour if you walked at four miles an hour.
Not only would you have some dedicated time to talk about the event (both before and after) with your companion, you would be getting some great exercise to boot. Not to mention taking a big bite out of your carbon footprint.
For some of us, this is not possible. We either can’t walk that far or there is no safe place to walk due to lack of sidewalks, road shoulders, or safe crossings. But for many of us, it is possible.
By looking at how things were done before we used the car for most of our trips, we can gain some insights on the possibilities. You might just find out it’s fun to walk your baby back home.
—Debbie Bulger
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