Don't You Dare Cross(walk) Me!

Thursday, May 19, 2016 | 0 Comment(s)

It's still free to park in Easthampton, MA. I see this as a temporary perk that will be short lived as our tucked away hamlet fills itself with more and more quality establishments.

For a itinerant worker such as myself, it isn't the buck I save on parking meters that gets me so excited. It is the relief I feel not having to worry about if I'm going to get a ticket. Personally, I've found that the majority of the times I do receive tickets, I'd put in enough money for the maximum time allowed. I'm not sure if the meter maids get sick of staring at my car during their rounds, or if their route randomly passes my vehicle after 3 hours and 2 minutes -- and by not sure, I mean of fucking course they are -- but either way, I get got. And in truth, the constant fear of a parking violation is much worse than the $10-15 fine.  Most of the time.

Today I went to the local coffee shop to work. Parking was free. Not only was it free, but there were a plethora of spots available. A literal plethora. I chose a spot directly across from my shop of choice, two spots back from the crosswalk. I got out and reflexively walked behind my car to the curb side where a meter will greet me in 5 years. But not today. I opened the passenger door to retrieve my computer and consciously decided to use the crosswalk instead of just darting across the two lane road.  The street wasn't particularly busy, but with parked cars on both sides, it can feel congested and filled with blind spots for both pedestrians and motorists.

A beige station wagon was already speeding toward the crosswalk, and just looking at the guy's face, I instinctively knew he wasn't going to stop.  He could. He had enough time and space. But his face -- the mustache, the shitty knock-off sunglasses -- told me that not only was he cruising through those white lines, he but simultaneously telling himself that he didn't have enough time to stop even if he wanted to.  He had the space. He didn't want to.


I Solved Parenting. You're Welcome Parents!

Friday, May 13, 2016 | 0 Comment(s)

I always get a mini-rush before writing a piece on parenting just imagining of all the people with children who will read it and think, "This shithead doesn't even have kids, how can he pretend to know anything about parenting?" No punchline here, I just enjoy the rush.

Before I get to the heat of the meat and talk about parenting, I first want to talk a bit about marketing.  I saw this image on Facebook today.
I'm sure there is a article about how this is not a real poster, not a real train, and not a real person, but, the points still remains. 
This poster succinctly draws attention to the relationship between how bad you feel about yourself, and the money you are told to spend to correct those "problems." Of course, often it is the same companies publishing articles about thigh gaps, extra long lashes, push-up bras, and powder supplements that are stacking your money as you attempt to measure up. This profit cycle, for the most part, goes interrupted . . . until parenthood. 

The Yin and Yang on State St.

Monday, May 9, 2016 | 0 Comment(s)

The good.

As a sit in my idling car outside a small grocery store, a mom walks her crying toddler up to the entrance.  The daughter, held tightly by her left hand, is old enough to walk and old enough to throw a temper tantrum.  She is doing both with abandon.

A second mother, also accompanying her small child then exit the grocery. It's clear that these relatively new mothers know each other. They begin a conversation miles above the still-crying girl and the young boy who exchange glances a foot or two above the pavement.  Without prompt, the boy drops his mother's hand and takes two wobbly but direct steps toward the girl. He wraps his arms around her for no other reason than because she is crying.

Pictured: A reasonable facsimile of the event that transpired