Get me out of the Drilling and Digging Noises

For the past ten weeks -- or even longer -- they (whoever they are) have been waking me up each morning drilling and digging on the street outside my house. Just when I want to roll over for another 5 minute snooze, the gouging, whirring, screeching, crunching, dragging sound of heavy machinery starts up propelling me to unGodly words and unladylike oaths and forcing me out from under the cozy covers and flannel sheets that cuddle us each night. Apparently, there's some gas pipes being replaced that is causing all the fuss. But it's been a noisy, long drawn process and it's still not over. The street has many large holes in it, covered with one inch thick sheets of metal bolted down and those orange traffic cones scattered about and one of those hideous blue portable toilets smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk for the workmen. All the earth digging has kicked up lots of dust so our cars are covered in dried up clay in addition to the autumn leaves that find their way into every crack of the car. I don't know where I'm going with the blog but it's your basic whine about a public works project and its noise and inconvenience. Don't get me started on the parking places lost to trucks and piles of earth and so-called tree protector fences that aren't protecting anything. Usually, our street in the fall is pretty with orange and yellow maple leaves and the last of the roses and marigolds. This year, it's been mud and dust and drilling and digging noises for weeks and no end in sight.

The Riches Under Ground in DC

All over the city there are entrances to DC under ground where we can park our gleaming vehicles safe from the weather, fender benders, thieves, and parking ticket ladies. Down fluorescent-lit, hot and fumy, steeply curved ramps we hide away our cars while we go off and shop, or work, or whatever.  But you do have to calculate in the time it takes to park and retrieve the vehicle whenever you plan an activity, one of which is to be waiting for your car to be brought to you. In fact, I'm sorry to say that I have driven my car a couple of times downtown, parked it underground and gone home on the bus forgetting about my beloved car altogether!  I always feel a bit sheepish about picking it up the next day but I know it's been well taken care of and at least I knew where it was once I got home and hubster asked "honey, where's your car?" Another odd thing is that all these entrances and ramps downward look very similar and there's been a few times when I forgot which underground garage I parked in or how to get back into the garage to retrieve the vehicle. Sometimes the stairways and elevators open up into another building above ground or there's no apparent pedestrian way out of the depths.  Then, of course, there's the problem of remembering which floor level it was parked on if you are allowed to self-park.  There's something very odd about wandering about in an underground parking lot looking for your car even if you do have an electronic key that you can beep for the car. There's just been too many movies or urban legends where people get run over or robbed or shot in parking lots and something about the low ceilings and minimal lighting creates a scary atmosphere. These garages are deep, and if you've seen a building constructed you know how big the hole in the ground is when they plan for these. There's a whole world in DC that's underground, filled with shining metal objects worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in the aggregate, guarded by very few custodians, and that we just take for granted as part of our 21st century world. Just imagine, for instance, trying to explain an underground car parking lot to Leonardo Da Vinci, or Genghis Khan or someone even a hundred years ago. They'd probably say it wasn't possible, even if they understood its feasibility. Another amazing wonder of our city.

Park Not Lest Ye Be Towed

As the Route 80 bus wends its way from the corner of the street where I live through downtown it passes the corner near St. Mary's Mother of God church on the corner of 5th & H street. This church has the blessing of a parking lot on H street but since nearby is the Verizon Center they have to be sure no one parks there without permission. Hence the sign "park not lest ye be towed away." But since it's a church parking lot it's easier to lapse into a theological view of this fence. Okay, fine, "park not" means don't leave your car there. Or leave anything where it shouldn't be. Especially valuable things like cars. Or other valuable things, like your heart, or soul. But "lest ye be towed away" is definitely a warning of some consequence if you "park" that valuable thing. And it's definitely about taking away your car if you dare to park it. Like, park it and lose it. But what if you saw this positively, about taking a risk. Drive in, leave your car where you don't have permission to leave it. And it gets towed, taken away somewhere. Like, give your heart up, to something, and it gets towed away. By God. To somewhere you don't know where it will go, unless you risk it.