Admittedly I've been witness to a number of disturbing trends recently, including (but not limited to) beautiful people wearing trucker hats, sporting the porn stache, and wearing mom-jeans; and all irony free, beautiful people mean business. Who needs irony with cheekbones like that?
But in seriousness, I can handle the cosmetic crap. A far more grave, sinister, black, horrid threat exists (and if I can accurately be labeled as anything, it's an alarmist). Ask yourself these questions:
Where were you the last time you bought a box of girl scout cookies? Were solicited for spare change? Were approached by a Mormon missionary?
If you were me your answer to all three would be "a parking lot." What the hell happened to the street, the park, the square as civic space humans were welcome to inhabit? Oh dear, the end is near. Plug it in, pack it up. What would you do for a Klondike Bar? Stop using your car and start using intuition?
Some days this whole arrangement is just exhausting. Two weeks ago I was asked for spare change twice in one day, in different parking lots. The guy in the morning got the shaft--I only had 15 cents in cash; the guy in the evening did much better--I'd made change at the post office and had five bucks. He was carrying a toddler--whether for real or a prop doesn't matter.
What does matter is the disconnect between fellow citizens--our public forum consists of bitumen, line striping reflective chemicals, wheel stops and towing signs, motorized vehicles, shopping carts complete with dispatch and holding cells, the guy in the orange vest, cameras may be monitoring this property for your protection, landscaped mulch islands teaming with empty miller high life and big gulps, with pigeons and seagulls there to dine. Country meets city, ah, the good life. We're all so deserving.
But in seriousness, I can handle the cosmetic crap. A far more grave, sinister, black, horrid threat exists (and if I can accurately be labeled as anything, it's an alarmist). Ask yourself these questions:
Where were you the last time you bought a box of girl scout cookies? Were solicited for spare change? Were approached by a Mormon missionary?
If you were me your answer to all three would be "a parking lot." What the hell happened to the street, the park, the square as civic space humans were welcome to inhabit? Oh dear, the end is near. Plug it in, pack it up. What would you do for a Klondike Bar? Stop using your car and start using intuition?
Some days this whole arrangement is just exhausting. Two weeks ago I was asked for spare change twice in one day, in different parking lots. The guy in the morning got the shaft--I only had 15 cents in cash; the guy in the evening did much better--I'd made change at the post office and had five bucks. He was carrying a toddler--whether for real or a prop doesn't matter.
What does matter is the disconnect between fellow citizens--our public forum consists of bitumen, line striping reflective chemicals, wheel stops and towing signs, motorized vehicles, shopping carts complete with dispatch and holding cells, the guy in the orange vest, cameras may be monitoring this property for your protection, landscaped mulch islands teaming with empty miller high life and big gulps, with pigeons and seagulls there to dine. Country meets city, ah, the good life. We're all so deserving.
3 comments:
I could only answer parking lot to the first one. This year though, we actually preordered our cookies from the Girl Scouts. :D
I haven't been asked for spare change since going to the BC and living downtown!
I have not only been asked for spare change in the parking lot but for gas as well...this bothered me but i did give them 2 gallons and 1.50 to the homeless man that "looked" like he needed it. Don't tell chad though he would not be happy if he knew that i did those things..but i have a hard problem saying no and when children are involved its much worse...so my goal...walk faster to and from the car.
Perhaps I'm just lucky but I don't even have to leave the comfort of my home to be solicited by so called "ex-crackheads" selling magazines, and edible cleaners, what have you. And make no mistake, they want more than spare change.
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