The cars hiss by my window (and rev, snort, shift, fart and scream)


Every day on Spring Street in Nawbany, drivers race from one end of my city to the other, concerned only with their own pass-through convenience, and harboring no desire whatsoever to stop, for any reason, unless they hit an inanimate object (striking humans is interpreted as permission to leave the scene).

They’re not spending money, patronizing local businesses or occupying a place in the social fabric.

And we constantly, incessantly coddle them, but until our absentee City Hall begins viewing this corridor as a neighborhood ripe for enhancement by reducing the presence of pass-through motorized narcissists, the situation will continue to worsen.

It continues to amaze me that we pamper these pass-through drivers at the expense of “quality of life” for the neighborhoods astride Spring Street. A significant part of the problem is that City Hall’s definition of “QOL” remains amorphous, and in terms of applicability, pertains primarily to the incumbent mayor’s campaign finance needs and not the real world outside.

Numerous times in the past I’ve invited elected and appointed officials to join me for an instructive walk, so their own two eyes, and ears, and sensory organs, can be allowed to register reality. Needless to say, my invitations have gone unanswered; then again, my district’s councilman (Greg Phipps) lives on Spring Street, claims to understand the issue, and refuses to act apart from denying there is anything an elected council person can do.

Profiles in courage? Not in Nawbany. Replace “courage” with “subservience,” and ring the bell.

I’ve got this mayor beside me
But he’s out of reach …