In last week’s edition of The Voice (October 20), both Carter Crane, our illustrious publisher, and Chas Coddington, our illustrious columnist, wrote of the constant change to which we’re all exposed in our lives. Change can be either for the good or the bad, depending on your point of view. For instance, if you’re in a heated argument with someone who decides to whack you in the head with a 2×4, the majority of the time that would be considered a bad change by you, the whackee. The whacker on the other hand, would consider this particular conclusion to the argument a good change. I have written about change in The Voice, mainly concerning daily underwear.
Some of The Voice readers and contributors write in regularly about accepting and adapting to our changing world, especially regarding the climate, while others (mainly one supposed science aficionado who won’t be named) will be forced to adapt while kicking and screaming all the way to Armageddon.
Among other things he’d like to see changed back, or forward, for the better, The Chas touched on streets. Although I grew up in a suburb closer to the city, I’ve lived, worked, and partied (Max’s on the river, anyone?) in Aurora for more than 40 years. The street thing puzzled me, not so much the downtown streets, but those mostly in parts of the southwest side of town. Some streets have curbs and sidewalks and some have neither. Some have curbs but no sidewalks. Some have curbs that end abruptly in midstream. Some have sidewalks that start in the middle of nowhere and end in the middle of nowhere, as if a pedestrian would be lowered from a mother ship to walk a half-block or so, and then get yanked back up when the sidewalk ends. My former hometown had curbs and sidewalks, so this arrangement seemed a bit odd to me.
Another odd thing: All Summer the streets around Aurora University were quiet, mainly used by residents. The students were off to parts unknown, doing the student things they do when class is not in session. So why was it on the first day that the students returned to start their school year and fill the parking lots and neighborhood streets with their cars, why was that the day the city government of Aurora decided to begin street construction and improvements all around Aurora University? Somebody somewhere must have gotten a chuckle out of this situation. We were punked!
Don’t get me wrong. I like streets. It would be difficult for Amazon trucks to make deliveries without them. Cow paths don’t make the best routes for fire trucks, either. When we moved into our current home, we had a halfway decent street, but no curbs. For whatever reason, when it rained we were Mother Nature’s recipients of a large, muddy puddle, which spread from our crumbling driveway apron up into our yard. Due to my wife’s tireless efforts and haranguing, the mayor told the streets’ engineer, “Just give this woman her curbs.” We got them.
So what’s my point? I know I had one when I started. Oh, yeah. The street construction mess around Aurora University was, for residents, a bad change that ultimately resulted in nice new streets and curbs, a good change. For the construction crews, the mess meant work, a good change, but the finished streets, for them a bad change: No more work.
Does any of this make sense to you? I hope so because I’m off to change my underwear.