On the Contrary: The cycle of life
Recently I decided to Google the rather unusual moniker we have given our newest park: “Art and landscape installation.” Quite frankly, I had never heard those words put together in that order before, and I wondered if Burbank had actually stumbled onto something unique.
Well, I found out we were close, but no cigar. Apparently, another city has beaten us to that distinction, has stolen our thunder, or, in all honestly, it is we who stole theirs.
Ladies and gentleman, the legendary town our leaders have chosen to emulate, to strive for greatness in their shadow, is none other than Cleveland, affectionately known throughout the Midwest as the “mistake on the lake.”
Yes, folks, they have had an “art and landscape installation” since June 2008.
Quite sadly, besides beating us to the name, they have also thoroughly clobbered us on another point. They actually have installed something resembling “art”’ at their site! What a bold, brazen idea! But I don’t think that will ever catch on around here.
My friend Doug has gotten together with a group of RV owners circulating a petition to overturn the ordinance the City Council snuck through in March, forcing everyone with a 22-foot or longer vehicle to buy a permit for parking overnight on a residential street.
He says everybody he’s talked to about it was livid with the underhandedness of the measure and angrily asks who were the council members who voted in favor of it. For the record, that would be Dave Golonski, Gary Bric and Anja Reinke. And by the way, the latter two will be up for reelection soon — RV owners, act accordingly.
I sure liked the way “fearless” Leader Editor Dan Evans described his bicycle commute to Glendale in last Wednesday’s paper — a 12-mile round trip from central Burbank to downtown Glendale and back without the use of a bike path. City Council members, listen up! Stop wasting good money and sorely needed traffic lanes on stupid ideas!
Evans’ commentary oddly enough got me to thinking about a totally unforeseen issue, as well — sexism and bicycle commuting.
I wonder if Evans’ wife would find his daily commute half as comfortable as he does, especially pedaling through that dark little tunnel under the freeway at the end of Patterson twice a day.
I parked myself on Verdugo near Meyers last week during an evening rush hour (4:30 to 5:30 p.m.) to see who was actually using the bike path. Guess what, 11 bicyclists passed by, and not one was female.