I travel these two blocks everyday at least 360 times a year. It is on my daily path to and from the Tummy Temple.
The two blocks show the wear and tear of city traffic and adjustments to sewer, gas and water lines. Every summer the shade would hide the potholes. Every winter new potholes were created. Routine allows me to weave a path avoiding certain death.
One of the NEW neighbors decided the street was shameful and needed to be repaired. He started putting signs in his yard and the roundabout dividing the two blocks.
The signs read ‘These roads are dangerous. Call the mayor to get them fixed’. I don’t know what else went on in the background, but other neighbors started posting signs in their front yards. He had started a movement.
Last week the orange cones blocked my path. Gigantic trucks and loud machinery filled the blocks as all the neighbors were warned to park elsewhere or be towed. Crowds of guys in day-glow jumpsuits and tin hats stood about as orange machines rode back and forth over the pavement under the direction of some white guy in a white hat sitting in a pickup truck with a city seal on the door.
Today, the path was clear and I took a ride on the smooooth asphalt. It seems those signs worked for now it is lacking bumps and holes. Just a long black fresh pavement still smelling of oil.
It won’t be long until some other folks will come back and start digging holes with bad patch jobs, but for now I will enjoy the ride.
My tush says ‘thank you’ to the city for spending my taxes.
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