How do you Share Good News?


Let me begin by stating that I have no news to share today. But over the past couple of days I have thought a lot about how we share good news, whether it’s personal, private or public. Sharing bad news is a whole other category, and I don’t want to focus on that today. Do you become excited when you share good news? Agitated? Scared? Nervous? Happy? It’s a mix of emotions, depending on what you want to tell people, and it fascinates me.

As I write this, my two-year-old daughter, Miss Nessa, my little Miracle, is sitting beside me. It’s late at night and she is wide awake and very busy. One would think that after a busy day she would be very tired. But this child has more energy than a sales bin of Duracell batteries. She is watching one of her favourite TV shows, Dora, belting out the “Map” song.

She had a busy day because today was her second birthday. As I wrote one year ago today, Nessa is why I believe in miracles. I was told almost three years ago that I would not be able to have more children, and yet she is here today beside me, wriggling around like a crazy person.

On this, her second birthday, I am reminded of the day back in November of 2015 when we told her brother and sister that she was on the way. I don’t know what compelled to me to record it, but I’m glad I did. How do you share the news with your children that they are about to have a little sister? Art? A letter? A gift? We decided to have a conversation with them. Take a look…


It didn’t go quite as well as we had planned as Matthew wasn’t too happy about getting another sister. He ran to his bedroom, with tears streaming down his face. He looked at me and said, “We are getting a dog. And it’s going to be a boy.”

Fast forward six months to May 26, 2016. When my kids saw their new little sister for the first time it was love at first sight. Maybe the sharing of the news didn’t go so well, but today she is most definitely the love of their life.

So, it brings me back to my original question: how do you share good news? With technology at our fingertips today, good – and bad – news spreads rapidly. A video taken in Toronto can be shared on YouTube with millions of people around the world in seconds. A few words on Twitter like “person XXX is pregnant” or “the name of the new royal baby is Louis” is seen by many people in an instant.

But that’s the public side of sharing good news. What about when it is more private or personal? Is it easier to share good versus bad news? How do you tell your boss that you got a new job and that you are giving your two weeks’ notice? Did you ever stand in front of your parents and tell them you are moving to France? How do you tell your best friend that you are engaged and that you want her to be your maid of honour at your wedding?

When it comes to sharing good news with your children, I highly recommend pulling out the iPhone and recording whatever it is you want to tell them.  Everything you expect them to say when you share the news will not happen. They will surprise you. And amuse you. I will never forget the day we shared the good news that Nessa was on the way. Or the news that she was born. Or that she turned two, and she smiled from the moment she woke up until she went to bed. If she ever goes to bed.

Sing Like Annie


I share a theatre subscription with my mother. We have been attending live theatre together for many years and have enjoyed dozens of shows. Live theatre, musical theatre in particular, can be a transformative experience. For a few hours, as you sit in the dark theatre, your body and mind are transformed to another place. It is quite an amazing feeling. Even though what I see before my eyes is not real life, I always chuckle when the actors suddenly break out in song. When you are faced with a difficult decision or want to express your emotions to your friend or foe, do you begin to sing?

I started to think about this last week when I went to see the show, Annie. I didn’t have to do a Google search to figure out the plot and had seen the movie and various other live versions so many times that I could mouth the words to half the scenes. It was obvious to me when the big numbers would happen, like Tomorrowor NYC.

But still, I was so amused when President Roosevelt, surrounded by his close advisors, looked at them and firmly told them, “Sing like Annie!” Imagine if that’s how we lived our lives. If you can’t make a decision or don’t know how to express your feelings, just sing.

Imagine yourself at work one day. You are in a big brainstorming meeting. The group is frustrated and disagreeing on which direction to go. Then you stand up and belt out….

The sun will come out
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
There’ll be sun!

Would your boss stand up and sing beside you? How about your disgruntled colleague who never smiles? Maybe the eager person who has been gunning for a promotion. But would it really ever happen?

How many men, once they are ready to take the big step to express love for a woman? Okay, there are probably a few of them who would get down on one knee and start to sing a corny love song. But most of the time, I doubt it. And would a woman answer in song as well and they would sing a beautiful duet? Wow, I’d love to see that.

Somehow it is perfectly natural in a play to break out in song. Would Jean Valjean’s soliloquy be the same if he did not sing Who am I?  Could the Reverend Mother have expressed her feelings about Maria in the Sound of Musicif she didn’t sing Climb Every Mountain?Even in a movie it just wouldn’t be the same. How else could Elsa have made the decision to live on her own and be her true self if she didn’t belt out Let it Go?

Some would say this is simply an expression of art and that I should just let it go. Theatre is designed to be a transformative escape, to take the audience away from everyday life and give them a special experience. It’s not meant to be real. People don’t really break out in song in the middle of the office or if they are down on their luck. But, it’s fun to day dream about what life would be like if they did. I will have to think about that some more. Maybe I should sing about it.

A Royal Wedding is a Complicated Baseball Game

royal wedding

I slept on the couch, in front of the TV, on Friday night. Okay, I didn’t really sleep, but I was on the couch. I didn’t want to miss a moment of the THE Royal Wedding of the year across the Atlantic Ocean, and it was easiest to just park myself on the couch all night. I am happy to admit that I love all things royal, no matter which royal family it is, and this event was not one to miss. A few days later, as the streets of Windsor are cleaned up and the journalists and tourists have gone home, we are left to analyze and discuss the latest royal wedding. What do I think? A royal wedding is a complicated baseball game.

You probably won’t find this comparison anywhere else, but please, allow me to explain. This connection came to me on Monday afternoon, during the celebration of Her Majesty, Queen’s Victoria’s, birthday in Canada (also known as Victoria Day). As I sat with family, watching our favourite show, House Hunters, we of course discussed our thoughts on Saturday’s wedding.

From outfits (and hats) we loved and hated to which celebrities were invited to asking why the only member of Meghan Markle’s family in attendance was her mother, the conversation flowed easily from topic to topic. Then we moved on to the new title bestowed upon Prince Harry and his bride – the Duke and Duchess of Sussex. Is a Duke the highest honour that can be bestowed upon the English aristocracy? What are the other titles? Where do Earls and Barons fit in? If a Duke is invited to dinner, does he get served soup before the lowly Baron? Is it true that Ms. Markle had to wear a specific shade of nail polish because of the rules of a royal wedding? What did the seating plan mean during the ceremony?

The questions go on and on when you dig deep into the intricacies of a royal wedding. Each step, each moment and every word are steeped in a mix of tradition and rules (even though I know Ms. Markle added her own modern twist here and there). It made me think: this is just like a baseball game. There is a seemingly endless list of rules, mixed in with ancient traditions. There are few people who are true experts on all the rules of a royal wedding or a baseball game.

Has a baseball player ever married a member of the British royal family? Now that would be neat! Imagine bringing together the detailed, intricate rules of baseball with those of a royal wedding. I can’t even imagine where to begin.

A baseball game is filled with statistics. How many baseball players have hit a triple, in the bottom of the ninth, left handed? Name which pitchers struck out at least 20 players in one game. How many times has it happened in baseball history that a second baseman hit a homerun during a game then pitched the 12thinning? Think of some crazy statistic, and it happened in a baseball game.

How many royal weddings have happened over the centuries? Too many to count I’m sure. But when you have dozens, if not hundreds, over centuries, rules are created and statistics have been collected. How many royal brides have been pregnant? Do most royal grooms where an army uniform? Have any big name guests died at a royal wedding? What is the most popular chapel used for royal weddings? Like a baseball game, the statistics are endless.

Okay, so a royal wedding is a bit more formal than a baseball game. Baseball players don’t wear a white tie and tails. But at both events there is a prescribed uniform for all participants. The Archbishop of Canterbury does not preside over a baseball game, chanting prayers, but I promise you, many a baseball player is crossing himself and saying a prayer before a key pitch. Loud, cheering fans? Check. Paparazzi photographers? Check. An exclusive group of people who are part of the inner sanctum? Check. Hats? Oh ya, check.

On first thought, a royal wedding and a baseball game may seem worlds apart, with nothing in common. But when you go deeper and do some thoughtful comparisons, they really are so alike. So, the next time you stay up all night to watch a royal wedding, put on your favourite baseball cap and remember to say, let’s play ball.

One Year Old: Happy Birthday Kinetic Motions

one year

One year of blogging. Wow. And I have loved every moment. I created and launched this blog, Kinetic Motions, one year ago today. It really was a dream come true. For ten years I considered and dithered. Then I took the leap. So, today’s post is in honour of Kinetic Motions. Happy birthday!

So much can happen in one year. When I registered this domain back in February of 2017 I was lost. I had a 9-month-old at home with me full time and I didn’t know what steps to take next in my career. I felt like I was at a crossroads and had to make some decisions. But I wasn’t quite ready to act.

I did know that I had many ideas swirling in my head. As I experienced the everyday happenings of life, in my gut I just felt like I wanted to write about them. I needed to find a vehicle to share the sights, sounds and smells of everything around me.

How could my blog be created? Where to begin? I bought the domain,, then what? Thanks to my brother, who not only is tech savvy but also kind and generous with his time and resources (thanks Neil for the server space!), Kinetic Motions started to take shape. With WordPress as a base, I chose a theme, developed pages, threw in some photos and began to feel that I could really do it.

In March and April I almost gave up a few times. Web development and basic technology don’t come easily to me. What seemed so easy to do on some websites I read was impossible for me. I took two steps forward and one step back.

But I persisted. This blog was sitting deep in my head for ten years, and I wasn’t going to give up. I was too close. With further help from my brother and sheer determination on my part, I launched Kinetic Motions on May 17th, 2017. I promise you, it was no coincidence that I chose the 17thof the month. There is no debate – 17 is the BEST number.

One year later I am proud of my creation. I have done what I set out to do: to have a space where I can think, reflect, discuss, debate and just write.

I had joked that if only my mother read my blog that it would be okay with me. I created this space for me, and I was proud of that accomplishment. But then people started to click and comment and send me personal messages. Family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances started to tell me how much they enjoyed reading my posts – that I write about topics that we all think about and that I write in a way that they can relate to.

Your feedback has energized me to keep writing, with new stories and musings, and to think about where Kinetic Motions will go next. One year in, my love of writing has grown beyond anything I could have imagined, and I am excited for what may come next. I invite you to join me for the ride as Kinetic Motions turns one today. An exciting future is ahead.

The Life of the Party


Over the past year, when people hear that I have a blog or if they quickly peruse my posts, they often ask me, “Are you a Mommy blogger?” While I have nothing against these talented ladies, my quick answer is always, “No, I am not a Mommy blogger.” Kinetic Motions is about my musings. I write about what I see, experience, hear and feel every day. Sometimes the topics are serious or heartfelt and sometimes they are absurd and light. I admit that I do write about my children often, but come on, they provide such quality material. Case in point is my topic for today’s post: the children’s birthday party.

We have all been to many a birthday party throughout our lives. We were all children once, so don’t shake your head and tell me you haven’t been to your fair share. If you are a parent, you’ve made many and probably attended more than you care to count.

I hosted my daughter, Julia’s, birthday party this weekend. I believe that some people think I am crazy while others are in awe that almost every birthday party I have ever hosted for my children, over the past 11 years, has been in my home. In fact, all except one of Julia’s birthday parties have been at home.  It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it.

So, what’s in a birthday party? How complicated does it have to be? Is it enough to throw a bunch of children in your backyard, feed them a store-bought cake and hand them a loot bag on their way out the door? Yes, it is. The kids don’t know any better and would probably have a blast with bread and water and a cardboard box.

But it’s not enough for me or the birthday parties I host. Again, some call me crazy and others are in awe of the time and energy I put into each birthday party for each of my children. My husband and I often reminisce about some of our best – and worst – birthday parties. I can’t say I have learned any lessons from successes or failures. Some make me smile while others make me cringe.

The key to a great birthday party is to give the children a great time, but also take them off their parents’ hands for a few hours. That doesn’t work as well when kids are little and their parents have to come too. So, for the little guys, I always say, entertain – and feed – the parents too.

While I know they serve their purpose, I highly dislike children’s play places. They are almost like birthday party farms, where the children are herded through like animals. They follow a basic formula, with an activity first, followed by a snack like pizza or hot dogs, finished off with birthday cake. It is most definitely a prescribed formula, and it works for many parents. Kids always love these, but again, I still believe many kids would be happy climbing inside a cardboard box with their friends. They are great for some, but not me.

A level up for a birthday party is a more organized activity, which requires a parent to spend much more time putting together. It can be a karate or dance class, laser tag, an art studio, or for the older kids an escape room. These activities can be costly and the kids definitely love them. But again, they are just not for me.

The best parties I have ever hosted for my kids have most definitely been in my home. Don’t think that doing this is simpler or easier. It is not. It is definitely cheaper, but it’s a ton of work. And well worth it. We invited Matthew’s music teacher to run a class in our basement for his second birthday. Number nine for him was pizza, cake, sports and wildness in the backyard, followed by the original Star Wars movie (watched on a VCR!) and sleepover with all the boys from his class from school.

Matthew’s 4th birthday party was not at home, but there’s no way any reptile was stepping into my house.

My pride and joy was Julia’s 7th birthday party last year, which was a formal high tea. The girls decorated tea cups and hats, decorated cupcakes, had their nails done then sat down to real high tea. I served them scones with clotted cream, party sandwiches, strawberries and cream and even English tea in antique tea cups. The kids came dressed up for the occasion and participated fully. David even dressed up as a butler. I will admit I may have had more fun than my own daughter.

our semi-formal family at Julia’s tea party
The table at the tea party
It’s always fun to be silly at a children’s tea party

And this past weekend was the latest birthday party in our home. It was a simpler affair, with apron painting, followed by pizza making and cupcake decorating. Then the kids munched on chips and their cupcakes as they watched the movie, The Greatest Showman. Dinner, the pizza they made, was served in the backyard, as they ran around like wild animals, and of course the event was topped off with yet another one of my original homemade cakes.

Celebrating with cake at Julia’s party this weekend. It’s not a party without her “twin” cousin Emma.

My house was a mess. I was exhausted and could barely lift my head on Sunday evening. But I’ll do it again. And again. Like in two weeks, when Nessa turns two.

What If all we had was What If?

what if

What if. These are two words we say all the time. We use these two words for both positive and negative outcomes, for creative expression or terrible consequences. They can be connected with changing our future or going over the past. What if. It makes me think.

Our car got into a minor fender bender last week. No one was hurt, well except our car and the other guy’s. I immediately asked myself, what if we had left home a few minutes earlier? What if I had decided to keep the baby home that day and not bring her to daycare? What if my husband understood that looking in his blind spot when changing lanes was a good idea?

My son, in a moment of 11-year-old rage directed at his father, broke our bathroom sink faucet last night. The faucet probably was on its way out, but brute force definitely sent it over the edge. Again, I said to myself – what if I hadn’t told my son to take a shower at that moment? What if my husband didn’t snap at his son? What if my son just took out his rage on us by yelling and not acting?

Those are two small examples where I asked that two-word question over and over, but every day it crosses my mind. Sometimes it’s something minor, almost petty. What if I left my house just five minutes earlier, then I wouldn’t be stuck behind this garbage truck? Or what if I put my umbrella in my purse this morning and didn’t get soaked on my way home from work? What if I had turned left instead of right and not snagged that great parking spot?

It goes on and on, and for the most part the outcome is not that significant. Leaving a few minutes early or changing my mind does not affect my life too much other than maybe add some stress or bring a smile to my face.

But there are other what if questions I ask myself that are much bigger and most definitely have turned my life in one direction or another. I guess you could say that for almost everything we do, if we had not the acted, sometimes at that exact moment, our lives would be markedly different.

Back in 1999 my husband and I lived in Israel for about 6 months, early in our marriage. I applied for a number of Masters of Journalism programs across the US and chose a top-rated program in broadcasting at New York University. We moved to New York, where David worked and I went to school. What if I didn’t go back to school and we stayed in Israel? And what if I chose American University in Washington DC instead? What if we stayed in New York after I finished school instead of moving back to Toronto?

Did I make the right choice for my career path, years ago or more recently? Is Toronto the right city for me to live in and raise my family? What if we chose a different neighbourhood to live in or a different school or camp for our children? What if I didn’t give David a second chance, back in 1995, when I first met him (when he was drunk) at a “Beer Bash?”

If all I did was ask what if all day every day I would never be able to make a decision or live my life. And lately, I will admit, I have been asking that question too often. I have been questioning my choices and my decisions, and it often leaves me frozen on the spot. At times I have been overwhelmed, but thanks to some wonderful family, friends and colleagues, I am pushing through.

I need to turn what if into something positive and a vehicle to drive me to action. What if I contacted some old friends or work colleagues to just catch up and get some inspiration? What if I signed up for that spin or yoga class? Or what if I invest more energy (dare I say also money?!) in my beloved blog, Kinetic Motions, and see where it takes me? What if I focus on all the positive in my life and not all the tasks and stress that bog me down?

Writing this post helps me turn my attention from questioning past actions and choices to focusing on what is next and the great things I can do with my future. If you read all the way to the bottom, thank you, kind readers. Your support is much appreciated.

Could that be Spring I see Outside?


Today is May 9th. I think spring has finally arrived in Canada. I’m not the first person to think about this or write about this. We all know about climate change and the crazy weather patterns we continue to see and experience around the world. I’m just happy that spring has arrived. Don’t get me wrong – I love the winter and all the outdoor activities that come with it. But, there is something special and fresh I always feel in spring. It took us a little while to get here. And now I am thrilled that indeed spring is here.

I am not a gardening maven and I’d say I have something between a green and a brown thumb. Maybe olive green? For me, one of the surest signs that spring has arrived are the green tips and buds that appear in my garden. It is nature at its best, with that perfect shade of green that pushes through the thawing, brown garden bed and from the branches on trees.

As each day goes by, the green shoots grow taller and bigger and other colours appear. I have tiny purple flowers now all over my front yard (which may be somewhat invasive and yet also beautiful) along with some red and yellow tulips (which are always swiftly consumed by the local squirrel population).

Last week my favourite tree started to bloom – the magnolia. I don’t have one on my property, which is just fine with me. They are all over my neighbourhood and during the first week of May every year I love exploring and looking at this most magnificent tree. The flowers are a gentle shade of pink that makes me smile. But this tree only blooms for a week or maybe two. We hit the height of the blooms a few days ago, and the flowers are already falling off the trees and lying on the ground. I don’t mind that I don’t have one as I don’t have to clean up all the petals.

A blooming magnolia tree on my street.

And speaking of outdoor cleaning, well that’s another sure sign of spring. No matter how much garden clean-up we do in the fall, when the snow and ice finally melt in the spring, our yard is a mess. I am blessed to live in the city on a large property. We have a big backyard, with huge hundred-year-old oak trees and a seemingly endless length of garden beds. Enough leaves fall on our property each year to fill about 50 garden bags.

Throw in massive wind storms which blew dozens of sticks and branches everywhere and it’s hours of cleaning for us each spring. My husband has abandoned the interior of our house the last few weeks to spend every free minute in the backyard cleaning up leaves and sticks. And he’s still not finished! Spring is beautiful, but it’s definitely synonymous with cleaning!

One headache I do experience every spring is the mess that is my front lawn.  As I wrote about last May, I dream of a green, thick, lush front lawn every spring, and so far, no luck. Last year we hired a gardening company to get rid of the grubs and re-seed, and by the fall our front lawn was a mess. In April, as everyone’s front lawns began to grow, we got a patchy mess, with more grubs and more raccoons. That’s right, those pesky raccoons once again pulled apart my lawn.

This year I’m trying to fix it on my own, and so far, no luck. I raked out the dead grass, aerated the area and sprayed a huge amount of grub-eating nematodes everywhere. I’m planning to lay a fresh layer of grass seed today. I will water it diligently, maybe apply some fertilizer and try to keep weeds away. And those grubs too. And the raccoons. If I fail, I will have to come up with a new plan next spring.

Today the sun is shining and my thermometer says it’s 21 degrees outside. I can take that. Actually, I think that 20-22 degrees Celsius is the perfect temperature and a sure message to us all that spring is here.  Welcome to the warmth, the greenery and the colours. I love it.

Listen to the Sounds of the Game


If you are a sports fan, May is a great time of year. There is a plethora of choices of sports to watch, read about, follow and discuss. If you want playoff action, there’s a hockey or basketball game every night. Baseball is in full swing. Soccer has come alive. There is a game on my TV every night, and I will admit, once in a while I fall asleep during the height of the action. A few nights ago, I watched a Toronto Raptors’ game with my eyes closed. I was too tired to watch, so instead I just listened. The sounds of the game fascinated me.

Have you ever closed your eyes and just listened to the game? And I mean really just sat down, relaxed and listened? The radio works, but I find the subtle and nuanced sounds the television cameras pick up are even more fascinating.


The Toronto Raptors play game 2 of their playoff series versus the Cleveland Cavaliers on Thursday evening. I won’t go into the letdown that was game 1 on Tuesday night. But I will share the audio highlights that I enjoyed from last night’s game. The sound I love most during a basketball game is how the athletes’ shoes travel across the freshly waxed and clean hardwood floor.  Some people may cringe, but it’s this sound that tells me that there’s a basketball game going on. Here is an example:


I also like the even tempo of the bouncing ball as a player races down the court. My son loves when a ball slides through the net with a perfect swish sound.


A hockey game has very different sounds from a basketball game, even though they are often played in the same building. First of all, there’s no shoes or hardwood floor.  The sound of perfectly sharpened skates flying down the ice or suddenly stopping make me smile. Add a stick and puck to the mix and you get a beautiful melody of sounds. How about when the puck hits the crossbar or a player checks another into the boards? Just close your eyes and listen. It’s a wonder to the senses. Listen to the sound of the blades on the ice:



The sounds of the ballpark. These are special. I went to a Blue Jays game last week, and at one point I closed my eyes so I could take in all the sounds around me. Even if you aren’t paying attention to the action on the field, there’s nothing like the concession vendors who run up and down the aisles yelling, “Beer here, ice cold beer” or “Popcorn, peanuts and Crackerjacks!” On the field there’s the sound of the bat as it makes contact with the ball or the sound of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt when the player swings and misses. And the umpires. Some of them articulate the word “strike” so well that you can hear it for miles.

Just listen to the crack of the bat and cheers of the crowd in this example. You know it’s a baseball game in an instant.


Other Sports

No matter the sport, each brings its own unique sounds. The grunt of the athlete and ball hitting the racquet in tennis. The calls of the quarterback in football. Oh, how I love the sound I hear when skis turn on the snow. How about the swing of the golf club and the sound when it hits the ball?

What are you favourite sports sounds? Post a comment here or on Facebook or Tweet me @AliciaRichler.

Honk if You’re Angry Part Four – Common Sense

driving aggression rage

Maybe you are sick of me writing about this topic. I haven’t written about my frustration of Toronto’s roads since October, but it doesn’t mean it hasn’t bothered me. With freezing and warming weather for months, Toronto’s streets were destroyed this winter. With spring’s arrival, finally, the people of the city are out, in cars, on bikes and on foot, and it seems that too many people forget the rules or are using any common sense.

Common sense could be it, or lack of. Could people be interpreting the rules differently than me, or are they thinking with their feet and fingers and not their brains? If you are pedaling but not thinking, there can be consequences. If you are texting and not looking up there also can be consequences. And if you are a driver who wrote your own rule book, then you may not care about the consequences.

Let’s look at some instances when clearly common sense didn’t exist, and I observed all of these cases on one day last week:

Jump across into oncoming traffic to turn left

While driving, I turned right at a green light and in front of me was a car, driving directly towards me. The driver wanted to get into the left turn lane while his light was red. But there were many cars in front of him and he couldn’t get into that left turn lane easily. His solution? Just drive on the wrong side of the road for a short time then jump into the left turn lane. Who cares if a car comes. That person can wait, in his mind. Well not in my mind. I honked him to move out of my way. He ignored me.

Honk me at an intersection

I reached the end of a side street and stopped at the stop sign. My car arrived at a busy, major street, with the intention to turn right. I looked left to wait for a break in the oncoming traffic. There were bushes blocking part of my view and I inched forward slowly. Cars kept coming. The guy behind me didn’t like that and put his hand on his horn. He was impatient. Why didn’t I go? Why didn’t I just drive my car into oncoming traffic? I could see there were cars coming. He couldn’t. No common sense. It’s better to make a right turn when the traffic clears.

Rules don’t apply to many (not all) luxury car drivers

I don’t drive a fancy car. I drive a big car, which I have sometimes compared to the Canadian Hercules airplane. My car, whose name is Amelia, is a Honda Pilot. She drives well, she’s comfortable to be in and I feel safe. But it’s not a luxury car. It’s a practical car. And I think I drive in a practical manner, following the rules and using common sense. But I have to say, based on my own observations, that’s not the case for the drivers of many luxury cars.  When the light goes green, if you are driving a luxury car, it doesn’t mean you can jump out fast and turn left as oncoming traffic prepares to go straight. You must stop at stop signs just like the rest of us. Please take only one spot in the parking lot. You don’t have to park in the middle of two spots and be greedy.

Look both ways before you cross the street

I have mentioned this one before. Put your smartphone down and look up if you are walking along the sidewalk and cross the street. It’s just plain dangerous. You are thinking with your rapidly moving fingers and not your head. No common sense. Drivers (and cyclists) should be aware of you no matter what, but why put yourself at risk? And what if you are texting, not looking up and arrive at a red light? Not a good idea to walk into fast-moving traffic. Over the last week, with beautiful weather, there are many more pedestrians. So many of them are using smartphones. Please, wake up. Look up.

Also, just an added note to pedestrians at crosswalks. You have the right of way, always. Most cities have constructed good signage to alert everyone on the road of a crosswalk. There is always a button to press that lights up the crosswalk, so that drivers and cyclists know you are about to cross. Press the button before you cross. If it’s raining or foggy or really sunny out, it makes it easier for you to be seen. Why do so few people press that button?

If it says one way, it’s for cyclists too

I drive on many narrow one-way streets around the city. These streets are shared by drivers, cyclists and pedestrians. A pedestrian, on the sidewalk, can walk in either direction. No problem. But cars – and bicycles – must go in the direction noted on the sign. What am I supposed to do when I am driving down a narrow one-way street and a cyclist is coming towards me, going the wrong way? I have nowhere to go. I must slow down to a crawl or stop. There’s an easy solution: follow the sign and drive – or bike – in the direction it shows. Common sense, right?

It’s really easy to use common sense, especially when traveling on a city’s roads, in a car, on a bicycle or on foot. I don’t want to honk and be angry nor do I want to be honked at. I want to share the road with all of you, and sorry if I keep complaining. Common sense. It’s that easy.