Really?
Ahem.
Dear people who live on street corners:
I walk my dog Ben every morning, mostly up at Comstock Park, but on occasion I stray into The 'Hood. I'm the one with the gray dog -- and shredded quad and hamstring muscles after attempting to scale the Himilayan peak (also as known as a berm) you left at the corner in front of your house after the plow came through.
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| Where's a sherpa when we need one? |
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| Those were the days, weren't they? |
I don't mind a step-up or step-down the least bit. I am not i.n.f.i.r.m. after all.
Nor am I landing a Boeing 747 on your corner sidewalk, for pete's sake. I'm just tryin' to get across the street.
And all I need is a little walk-through.
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| I ask you, Is this so complicated? |
My friend, when I "go around," there's a pretty good chance you'll (1) watch me go down like the Titanic when my foot hits the ice -- cleverly disguised as 2 inches of new snow -- on your driveway or (2) get a postcard from Wallace, Idaho, because that's where I am still trying to figure out how to cross the bloomin' street.
And please don't say the exercise is good for you. I could say the same about snow shoveling.
So let me lay it out here. We lived on a street corner, circa 1987-1992, here in Bermtopia. (23rd and Monroe. Say it loud and proud.) I feel your pain. It's double the work, I know.
But let's not lose sight of the stream of humanity who traverse these sidewalks of ours and need to cross -- safely, I might add, without teetering on the brink of broken ankle oblivion -- at street corners: School kids, dog walkers, runners, seniors, mail carriers, meter readers, and god help us, solicitors whose sole mission in life is to help us bundle our TV, phone and Internet.
So I shout from the roof tops: Dear people who live on street corners who create those wonderful, berm-defying street corner walk-throughs, THANK YOU!
You are my heroes.
And I promise. There will be buckets of yellow squash (organic, fair trade, gluten-free, paleo) on your doorsteps this summer as a token of my undying gratitude.
You're welcome.
oh, boy....I wish you lived on my block...I'm a corner lottie .... and I dig and shovel endlessly .... to do just that ... make it safe for walkers ... it takes fooorreevvvere and my shoulder and bad arm feel it...but, I do it. Because it should be done. My neighbours are out there today trying to chip off skating rinks..where they did NOT shovel and after a day's warm temps and some melting...they have a scary situation going on. One guy already fell down and I could hardly smother a laugh...on his own skating rink sidewalk...ahhahahha... serves him right.....
ReplyDeletenow where is some kind soul on my own block that would deliver me some lovely squash instead of the damn dogwalker who insists on throwing their dog crap in my clean garbage can? ... if I ever catch said person..... there will be bruises.... and they will be covered in their own dog's shi* ......
I wish you lived on my street because we need someone fierce and fearless like you. Maybe you'd like to take a holiday away from the berm and come help us tackle our street cat and overhanging gum tree problems?
ReplyDeleteI absolutely LOVE this post! I live on the opposite coast from you, but the same inconsiderate (or is it just plain lazy?) corner-dwellers reside in my neighborhood, too! I walk corgis, so even a little snow becomes hard to maneuver through on their short legs! Fortunately, snow is pretty rare here in the DC area, so the inconvenience doesn't happen too often.
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