Where I work (and live), parking is a valuable commodity. In the paved lot behind my office, there are about 12 spaces — and that’s on a good day. Due to The Longest and Coldest Winter in Minnesota, there are only about nine or ten spots available. The snow coverage and ice-rink conditions obsure the yellow lines completely.
It came to my attention today that a blue mini-van in the lot must have been parked in one spot for a very long time. ‘Cuz it got the Boot. Ever see one of those things? It’s a monstrous yellow clamp thingie that fits neatly around the car’s front tire, preventing it from going anywhere without the owner going through a helluva lotta hassle. That boot can stay on anywhere from a few hours to a few days, depending on how much of a rip the owner gives to get his car back again.
Do you see the irony in the Boot? Obviously, the Boot is placed on the tire as a punishment to the driver for parking where he doesn’t belong. If he were to remove his car from the spot where he doesn’t belong, he would free up a parking spot that rightfully belongs to someone else. But, with the Boot on his tire he is unable to move his car; thus, the punishment for the Boot-ee becomes a punishment for the rest of us who actually deserve to park in that spot. So, I ask: why the hell don’t they just tow the thing?
My next job? The parking police!
I took in the Twin Cities music scene Saturday night and enjoyed a performance of Gil Shaham with the Minnesota Orchestra. In addition, the Star Tribune was kind enough to send me two complimentary tickets to the Orchestra as a thank you for a small donation I made to its Newspaper in Education program. I’ll be seeing Doc Severinson at the end of March.
Monday’s Star Tribune featured an article about Postville, Iowa, a rural town I visited last October as part of a diversity immersion experience sponsored by St. Olaf. Postville has become known as the “Ellis Island of the Midwest,” after a Hasidic Jew opened a Kosher slaughterhouse several years ago. The slaughterhouse attracted other Jews and immigrants from around the world. While the article was fascinating and provided a quick glimpse into the changing lives of these Iowans, I highly recommend reading Postville: A Clash Of Cultures in Heartland America. Or, do what I did and actually take a tour of the slaughterhouse. The scent of the kill still lingers in my nostrils.
My lack of interesting or off-the-wall links lately has been due to the fact that, although I spend all day on the web, I never seem to leave the URL of my employee. Uff dah. I need to get out more.
My mom used to complain that I updated my web page more often than I emailed home. If I have time to blog, shouldn’t I have time to send a quick note to my loved ones? (Don’t forget, you can discuss below!)
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