Showing posts with label urban grit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label urban grit. Show all posts

Monday, December 24, 2018

No Parking II



In having to scan for drivers ed students; cavernous potholes; ear-plugged pedestrians with face buried in phone; entitled cyclists; idiots swinging open car doors; bouncing balls followed by the kid undoubtedly chasing it; the confusing menagerie of traffic signs; and just plain old random acts of recklessness; negotiating a vehicle through the streets of Brooklyn requires the visual sense of a spider.

For the most part, people do a fairly decent job of processing the overwhelming stimuli offered by our streets ... some not so much.  I'd rather not bother with those who move out to New Jersey and Pennsylvania that upon returning to Brooklyn forget how to slow down and break-out in a rash at every stop sign and red light.

In any event, all road trips must come to an end.  That's when the next adventure begins.  Parking spaces are akin to urban gold, and sometimes prospecting poses great potential danger.  The battle for space is fierce, and sometimes boundaries aren't so clearly defined.  But make no mistake: one surely exists and will be defended in Civil War-like manner.  It matters not from what corner of the planet you come, or what language you speak.  Throughout Brooklyn, the message is clear.  However, some convey it better than others.






































This Means You!



Sunday, July 15, 2018

No Parking in Brooklyn: Don't Mistake The Message




Negotiating a vehicle through the the streets of Brooklyn requires the visual senses of a spider, with all eight eyes each simultaneously transfixed on the road, student and/or reckless drivers, clueless ear-plugged pedestrians with faces buried in their phones, entitled cyclists, cavernous potholes, idiots swinging open car doors, bouncing balls followed the kid undoubtedly chasing it, and the confusing menagerie of traffic signs advising motorists what they can and can not do.

I'll not bother with those who move out to New Jersey/Pennsylvania that upon returning to Brooklyn forget how to slow down and break-out in a rash at every stop sign and red light.  Otherwise, most people behind the wheel seemingly do a fairly decent job of processing the overwhelming stimuli offered by our streets ... some not so much.  

Of course, I'm being kind.

In any event - no matter their purpose; how short or long in duration - all road trips must come to an end.  Since we would all like to arrive at our destinations safely, perhaps the best way of achieving that end is by driving courteously and obeying the rules of the road.




But that's when one adventure ends and another begins.  Parking spaces are urban gold, and sometimes prospecting poses great potential danger.  In a city where the battle for space is fierce, sometimes boundaries aren't so clearly defined.  But make no mistake, as one surely exists and will be defended in Revolutionary-like manner.  It matters not what corner of the planet you come from, or what language you speak.  Through conditioning - like the universal red stop sign - Brooklynites have applied an international standard upon two specific words that when joined together form an indisputable message of the motor vehicular kind.  Some convey it better than others, but there is still no mistaking the intended interjection.  Of course, that still doesn't stop people from taking liberties.  They will, and do, but at their own risk.


























































This Means You!