The headlight of a motorcycle came up behind me. The motorcyclist came up right along side of me and my bike. He idled at the same pace I was walking. I thought, “What now?”
“You know, you’re supposed to ride that thing.” the motorcyclist said.
I answered without even looking at him, since his comment pissed me off. “If you had ridden as far as I had today without a motor, you might be walking too.”
He laughed. “I suppose you’re right. My name is Evan, nice to meet you.” He held out his right hand to me.
I looked at Evan as we passed a street light. His face said sunshine and starry nights all at once. I guess he looked like I had always pictured Hermann Hesse’s Goldmund character in Narcissus and Goldmund. He had ringlets of golden hair framing a boyish, but masculine face of I’d say about 25 years old with fair skin. He was beautiful and looked pretty cool on that bike, too. I extended my hand, and we shook hands.
“I’m Sue.”
“You look like you could use a beer, Sue. There is a bar up on the right ahead about a half mile from here. Can I buy you a beer there?”
“Sure.” I said, against my better judgment. At least it was a public place. How much trouble could I get into? Actually I was really flattered. Here I was at the end of my rope feeling lonely and used, when this great looking guy rides up and asks me out. I was willing to be home late for this diversion. My next worry was that I don’t really drink beer. I’d just order something else, I guess.
I looked through the large rectangular front window of the bar. It was the kind of place that had peanut shells on the floor. Evan sat at a small round table with two beers in front of him. Damn, he had already ordered. I could never be so rude as to not drink some of that beer. He looked too good to be true sitting there just waiting for me. In that short moment I got nervous, like a fifteen year old girl on her first date. He had only seen me in the dark, what if I walked in there and could see that he changed his mind when he got a good look at me? The confidence I found to walk in that place was from all the miles I had covered and people I met.
I opened the door and walked into the bar. Men sitting on bar stools turned to see me, some with leers on their faces. Evan and I made eye contact, and as I walked to his table, the men turned back to their beers to mind their own business. Evan smiled and looked really glad to see me. I sat down behind the unclaimed beer. Evan was wearing blue jeans, a plaid button front cotton shirt, and a blue jean jacket. The first few buttons of his shirt were open and I could see curly blond chest hairs on well toned pectorals. The gold hair on his wrists shone in the light over the tanned skin beneath. His hands were clean, and the nails on his strong fingers were smooth and even.
“Thanks for asking me out for a beer.” I said. “You wouldn’t believe how much I needed one.”
“Well, you looked a bit at the end of your rope out there. I don’t figure that you usually walk that bike.”
“You’re right about that. I rode maybe forty miles today.”
“Forty miles! Shit! If you don’t mind my asking, what are you doing that for?”
“I’m selling bible related books door-to-door for the summer. I am a college student. Here, I’ll demonstrate.” I looked deeply into his eyes and mustered all of my Parchment learned innocence and sincere earnestness. “Hah there Evan. My name is Su-san Fair-vieew, and Ah’ve been callin’ on all the church folks in the neighborhood. Y’all do go to some local church, don’t ya?” I paused slightly for effect, and completed the approach with an almost plaintive, “May Ah come in?” I raised an eyebrow to punctuate the question.
“I guess I’d let you in after hearing that.” Evan said.
“Actually, I probably wouldn’t go into your house since you are a man alone in it.”
“That’s probably smart. But, really, you wouldn’t come into my house?” He winked and said the last part flirtatiously.
I left that question unanswered, but smiled to acknowledge his flirting.
“Do you go to school here at the University?” he asked.
“No. I go to school at the State University of New York at Cayuga in upstate
“Junior year. How about you?”
“I’m taking some economics courses part time at the University. I’m thinking about going for an MBA.”
We went on making unimportant small talk, but what was really going on, as far as I was concerned, was some real chemistry between us. I was getting more and more excited just sitting across from Evan, just from being at the same table with him. I didn’t want to leave, although now it was nearing
He let me talk. I felt as if I had spoken to no one all summer, but I kept the conversation light. I could not hide my fatigue though, and he noticed it.
“Well, its getting late.” he said. Before I could worry that this was it, he continued. “How would you like to come to my house for dinner tomorrow night? We could do some steaks on the grill.”
What a relief, he was asking me out. He must have been experiencing the attraction too. I had felt that there was no way that it was just me. Without hesitation, I answered. “Sure. That sounds great!”
“Do you want me to pick you up?”
Now the careful and wary side of me took over. If I let him pick me up, I would have to tell him where I lived. I wasn’t in the habit of doing that. If I could ride there on my bike, I could scope the place out and come home if it didn’t look safe. My wariness had kept me safe all summer, and I wasn’t going to abandon it now. “No thanks. I’m not sure exactly what time I will get done selling tomorrow, so why don’t you just give me the directions. Is it far?”
“Not at all. You just go west on
“Maybe around eight?” I had worked late today, so being at Evan’s house by eight would not jeopardize my eighty hour week.
“Great, see you then.”
I wanted him to kiss me, but that would really be too fast. Hesitantly, I stood up from the table. I had only drunk a third of my beer. I hoped he wouldn’t notice. I walked out of the bar alone, as I had come in. When I got outside, I could see through the window that Evan was paying for our beers. I had looked to make sure that he was not coming out to follow me. To my relief, Evan bought another beer and went back to the table, where his jacket was still on his chair. My trust in him went up a notch. If he had ill will, he knew I was vulnerable out alone on a bicycle. This was obviously not his intent.
I came to my street and wondered if Mary and Chris would still be up.
Mary was downstairs having milk and cookies with the Sanders when I came in. She sure did look at home with them, but then why shouldn’t she? They were very welcoming.
“Sue, please come and have some milk and fresh baked sugar cookies with us.” beckoned Mrs. Sanders.
I joined them at the table, and Mrs. Sanders went into the kitchen to get me a glass of milk, a plate and napkin. I looked at the white, hand cross-stitched table cloth. The warm wood paneled room and crocheted seat cushions on wooden chairs made me feel more comfortable than I ever felt in my own home. Mr. Sanders’ grey eyes in his soft wrinkled face under neatly brushed white hair looked at me with pride. His hard working tenant was home from the bookfield. Why couldn’t they be my parents? Mrs. Sanders came back to the table and placed my setting in front of me. “Well dear, I dare say you are glowing this evening. What happened?”
Mrs. Sanders could read me like a book, I guess. Mary looked interested too.
“I met a guy on my way home from selling today, and he asked me out for dinner tomorrow night!” Mary looked dubious, but the Sanders smiled as if they were happy for me.
“Are you going to go?” asked Mary.
“Yeah, he seems really nice. He’s a student at the University. So, I’ll be home late tomorrow night.” Mary seemed accepting of this and I took it as a good sign. I wasn’t sure how she would react and was relieved that she seemed positive. She didn’t even bring up Gregg or Chip. I wasn’t sure just exactly what she knew about my relationship with them, since I had told her nothing.
When we went upstairs, Chris was already asleep. I too, was exhausted, and fell asleep quickly.
Dr. D and I flew British Airways from
It was fully dark when we landed at Leonardo da Vinci Airport in
The jet pulled up on the tarmac and stopped. I was wondering what jet bay we were going to hook up to, but we did not. They just towed the stairs up to the jet and we deplaned. There were very few people on our flight and Dr. D and I were thinking that we could go through customs quickly and get to our hotel without much ado. However, then we saw the Aeroflot jet unload a full cargo of Russian high school students on a visit to
There were had to be hundreds of them all chatting away excitedly in their native tongue and all but running for customs. What a bummer. We would be marooned in a sea of them. We all entered the building and it was just like I thought. Dr. D pushed valiantly through the crowd, but we were not able to make it to the front as the students knew how to push too. There were only three customs agents; one for Italian natives and the other two for foreigners. Good god, it was going to take all night. So Dr. D stood his full height of 6 feet 4 inches and waved the good old
Our boss, Dr. R, a native of
“One of the oldest and most prestigious hotels to be found in the
The nineteenth-century ballroom and adjacent rooms with all their stucco-decorations, and magnificent chandeliers combine to produce an almost regal atmosphere or "Grand Fin de Siècle".
Our jaws dropped when we saw the lobby and the rest of the interior. Opulent was the one word for the place. There were crystal chandeliers, gilt work, frescos, marble everywhere, and big fancy tassels. The whole place was decked out to say the least.
After we checked in we decided to reconnoiter in the lobby. Dr. D was quite excited by his room and as usual we had to compare room amenities. We both had marble baths, floors and sinks with fancy faucets and frescos in our rooms. Some of our moldings were gilt. His room was a bit fancier than mine and we decided that tomorrow I would check out his room. But, for right now, we were both starving. What would be open so late at night (it was around
We decided to head for the Fountains of Trevi and see what we passed on the way there. The hotel had some free tourist maps and we took one each and since both of us had been to
The Fountain of Trevi was designed in the Baroque style by Nicola Salvi and completed in 1762.
The fountain was just as I had remembered it from 1966, when I was last there as a 10 year old. At that time, it was daylight and the crowd was so big we couldn’t get near the fountain to throw our coins in. But I, as well as my sister and brother, snuck in between the people and as I got closer I could see coins on the stones that had not reached the fountain. They were from all different countries. I picked them up and tossed them into the water. Then I found a Japanese Yen and kept it because coins with a hole in the center were a novelty to me. I wondered if God would be angry that I stole a coin from his fountain (I was a devout Catholic then) but kept it anyhow.
In spite of the risk of water borne diseases, I drank from a small fountain at the right of the main one that supposedly is an omen that one will return. And so I had.
But now, Trevi was packed with college aged kids chasing each other and drenching each other with water from the fountain and laughing. Mostly it was the boys chasing the girls. Let me just say that
The next day was Friday and we would have to earn our keep again. We were getting up early to be waiting in line to see the Sistine Chapel when it opened at
The Planning and Zoning (P&Z) commission held a meeting in Town Hall to hear an special permit application from Turnpike Properties, also commonly known as Walgreens Pharmacy, to construct a pharmacy with a double drive through facility for prescription service, together with required off street parking. The statement of use reads as follows:
The applicant proposes to construct a retail pharmacy containing approximately 10,000 square feet on the first floor and 3,500 square feet on the second floor or mezzanine level. The plans also call for two drive through windows for prescription service only, and parking spaces, some of which will be located in a common parking area to be used jointly with the Town Hall on land to be owned by the town and known as
These notes are from both the application meeting and the represented application at the public hearing. The project requires a land swap with the town whereby the applicant will receive the subject property and the town will receive
Click image to enlarge
A registered architect presented the pharmacy design. The architect stated that the use of traditional materials would give the appearance of wooden slats and the addition of a widows walk was intended to be in keeping with local buildings built in the late 1800’s, and yet similar to the design of the shopping center across the street. [Mmmm, lovely. Sorry, couldn’t restrain myself here.]
Click to enlarge
The parking lot was designed so that it would not be a thoroughfare between
A traffic study was presented that essentially reported that there would be no impact on local traffic. Of course the Cumberland Farms gas station expansion was not taken into account. (Off the record, the traffic engineer said that the Cumberland Farms thing was a complete disaster from a traffic standpoint.) A project site engineer presented plans indicating that drainage would be better than at present and a registered landscape architect happily presented a plan that would return hardy elms to
A statement of Findings was made available to the P&Z as follows:
All I could think was, “Geez, it would have been great to have all of this information for Cumberland Farms.” We would have if it was a special permit.
Next… The public speaks out. But what could anyone possibly have to complain about in this rosy picture?
It had been a long hot day on the book field. It was already past nine and I was only about half way home from selling. I was about all in, and lifting my legs felt like there were sacks of sand tied on my thighs with every up cycle of the pedals. It was already dark and I had so far to go yet. All of the sudden it hit me that I had not had any life for myself all summer. Every moment of every day was for Parchment. I had no personal life. I was lonely, really lonely. I felt like all of the fight and spirit in me was drained away by the events of the summer, and not enough rest.
I shut my eyes for a moment and opened them. My wheel was still right on the white line. The cover of my lids on my eyes had felt so wonderful. Just that short moment seemed so restful. I closed my eyes again, and listened to my wheels humming over the asphalt. I heard crickets. I opened my eyes again. There was the white line; I was still on it. My bike rode on straight and true. My eyes closed again, and I heard nothing. All was black. All was night. I felt free.
I sensed a slight bumpiness under my forehead, and groggily lifted my head from my hands. My eyes opened. The front wheel of the bike was on the gravel shoulder of the road. I fought with the handle bars, pushing the wheel from the gravel back to the road. I was at the bottom of the hill. I had slept just about the whole way down. Some adrenaline started to flow into me as I realized that I easily could have crashed the bike. I was glad to be alive and unharmed and at least regained my focus on these as immediate life goals.
I looked up the road. A ranch style house with a long front porch was ahead. The porch was lit, and the folks were out there talking. I didn’t seem to remember selling at that house. I was feeling a bit too tired to make a demonstration, but this looked like a perfect opportunity. I steered my bike up the driveway that slanted conveniently from the road like a highway ramp. A family was on the porch. There was a man and a woman, and their three kids. The kids seemed excited and happy about something. I thought that maybe it was someone’s birthday. They looked like very nice people. I held the bike and spoke to the family from where I stood, on the ground in front of their porch. I gave my approach and smiled at them.
The man said, “Look, we’re really not interested in anything that you are selling, but it’s been a long hot day and I bet you’d just as soon have some of this fresh, homemade peach ice cream we’re having?”
Fresh peach ice cream sounded like just the restorative that I needed. I threw down my bike and said, “You’re exactly right, Mr. Jones. I would really appreciate some homemade ice cream, if it was no trouble.” Then to make sure it would happen, I made a truthful statement. “I’ve never had homemade ice cream.”
“Well my goodness”, said Mrs. Jones. “You come right up here and we’ll make you a bowl.” I joined them on the porch, sitting on a pillowed metal tube chair offered by one of the kids.
“Mom, there isn’t anymore ice cream. Jenny and I got the last bowls.” said a boy of about ten who had given his chair to me.
“Not anymore, that can’t be right.”
Jenny came forward. “She can have my bowl, Mom.”
“I just couldn’t take your ice cream away from you honey.” I said. “Although, it is awfully nice of you to offer. It’s pleasant enough if I could just rest here a moment and enjoy your company.” This was also the truth. I was dog tired, and the surroundings were pleasant and comfortable.
“No, I insist that you have my bowl of ice cream.” Jenny said. “We make it all the time in the summer, and you’ve never had any. Please take it.”
The family laughed good naturedly at my reaction to their ice cream. I was overwhelmed, and tried to express it to them. It didn’t seem to me that I could do it justice. But, Jenny seemed pleased enough.
I did not want to leave their house, but now it was really getting late. I had to get home. The ice cream made me feel strong enough to ride again, and if I kept a good pace, perhaps I could be home in thirty minutes or so. I thanked the family again, and went off into the dark night quietly on my spinning wheels.
I sat in the back seat, Raz drove, and Dr. D sat in the front. As we hit the highway we noticed the highway cones. Here, in the
It was getting dark by the time we rolled into
Then, Raz said that he had a special treat for us for dinner. He would take us to his all time favorite Indian restaurant for dinner where the food was just like home. And, it was close enough to walk. So, off we went to Gaylord’s. Oh boy, I thought, this ought to be really good!
We let Raz order everything in his native tongue when we got there. Dr. D and I smiled at each other. Raz waited eagerly with anticipation while the food was served. He asked that we both try the lamb vindaloo first. So, we did. My eyes instantly went to Dr. D. We grinned at each other in a pained way while sweat broke out on our foreheads, tears poured from our eyes and our tongues and roofs of our mouths burned.
“How is it? Isn’t it really good? Don’t you just love it? It’s just like my Mom used to make for me at home.” exclaimed Raz.
We both looked at him and grinned and nodded enthusiastically that it was through our tears. It really was very good once you were past the third degree burns. I guess they spiced it for him and not for us non-Indians. I frantically reached for my mango lassi.
Eventually we got used to it and the dinner became close to palatable. I must say that to my surprise it did not make my stomach upset at all. Here I was prepared to waken in the middle of the night with a highway flare in my chest.
The next morning we drove to the investigator’s site. There we met with our colleague Kate, who would be monitoring the site when it opened. She was petite and cute, just like me, but with shoulder length brown hair while mine is short and dark ash blonde. The meeting went well and we potentially signed up another investigator. Then, all four of us piled into Raz’ car, the boys in the front and the girls in the back. Off we went to tour the country side and see the shore.
Instantly we left the country and drove into green hillsides dotted with trees, houses, and coastal views.
Eventually we came to a sea side town and had lunch at a pub. It was solid British fare, meat
and potatoes with a pint; very traditional indeed. Then we walked around the small town and got ice cream. I love the charm of small timeworn coastal towns like that and in fact I live in one now albeit here in the US. All in all, it was a very pleasant afternoon.
But, we had to be on our way to make our next country:
Next time… The
The view looking South down Main Street. Town hall is on the right, and the Cumberland Farms on the left.
The view looking North up Main St. The Cumberland Farms sign is seen as well as the Gulf gas station with one island and Coke machine. Make a left down Elm St. and within a mile you reach a highway. The P&Z Vote
The P&Z vote was held in the downstairs meeting room at the town hall that can safely hold about 40 people per fire regulations. That night, it was standing room only and people were waiting outside to get in. Before the meeting started, it was proposed by the citizens that the meeting be moved upstairs to the auditorium that can hold 150 people, but the P&Z refused with stony faces.
The meeting was called to order. The chairman recused himself from the Cumberland Farms matter. More about that later. At some point the issue of correspondence was raised. Apparently, the petition with 350 signatures to reopen the public hearing was dismissed after the applicant’s (Cumberland Farms) Lawyer wrote a letter citing a Supreme Court case indicating that such motions are not in order. The citizens' group’s member lawyer wrote a response saying the applicant’s case was off point (and he should know, since his job entails following Supreme Court cases). The applicant’s lawyer’s letter was accepted into evidence and the citizens’ were not. So, even though no more evidence was to be accepted, the applicant’s evidence was. That did not seem right to anyone.
A P&Z member made a motion to approve the application and after acceptance of the motion the matter was open for discussion. The mostly female P&Z kibitzed endlessly and in an uninformed manner about the canopies, roof pitch, pumps, number of islands, pumps and the like. Thirty minutes were spent trying to determine how big 18 inches was. They were obviously biased for the applicant and the one dissenter was viciously attacked. It was like watching cats on a mouse. Things were said like, “Well Jane, I wouldn’t know, you’re the scientist.” They were obviously biased, bitchy, uninformed, unprofessional, and an embarrassment to the town. Everybody thought so. Our P&Z in action. Gotta love it.
I worried that they would ignore the nonconforming issue (triple the gasoline within 200 feet of a school and place of assembly on an unapproved site) and went to Joe, the First Selectman, and whispered to him about it. He said that he would mention to them during the break. Later in the meeting they did ask the P&Z lawyer about conformance. The lawyer advised that when weighing conformance one has to look at the big picture. The total conformity of the current sites versus the conformity of the future site needs to be compared. So, the proposed redevelopment will result in a single lot which is significantly less non-conforming than either of the two lots which are to be combined. The acting Chairperson smiled. She summarized as follows: the new lot will either be in compliance with regulations as to gross lot area, impervious coverage, and landscaped area, lot frontage, building setbacks, parking and delivery. The new development will be in conformance with the Greenways project, will not depreciate property values, will improve public safety by upgrading fuel systems, new traffic flows will eliminate unsafe conditions, and the two service bays at the current station will be eliminated.
I, as well as the rest of the audience, was so frustrated and exasperated by this time that I couldn’t help it and I cried out, “Yeah, and three times the gas is so much safer!” At least I got a laugh from the people around me and a stern warning look from the acting bitch chair.
It was announced that hours of operation would be from
The P&Z reduced the number of islands from 4 to 3 and approved the application in a vote of 3 in favor and 2 against. So, just like that, we have a new Cumberland Farms gas station in our town.
The Appeals
Shortly thereafter, the citizens' group hired a lawyer and filed two appeals: one with the Zoning Board of Appeals and the other with the Supreme Court in our State. We had a tough time finding appellants, but we located some. The aggrieved are a couple who own a local Bed and Breakfast down the street from the proposed gas station who filed based on possible loss of business, and family who live on Elm street who filed based on loss of property value due to increased traffic from the highway to the new station, and a couple who own a business adjacent to the gas station who filed based on possible loss of business and decreased property values. The next step is waiting for Cumberland Farms to challenge our appellants. Money to pay the lawyer was collected from the citizens' group and letters for further donations were sent to people that signed the petition. More money is still needed.
I served the ZBA appeal myself. I drove to the ZBA Chair’s ranch house and knocked on his door and then stepped back a few paces (as I was taught in sales school). It was a lovely day. He answered and I served him. He signed, but was grouchy. He said something like, “Well it’s summer and so no one may be around to hear this.”
I responded with, “You have a lovely garden. Are those lupines? I can’t even get them started in my garden.”
And so we talked about his garden. It turns out that he had just had a cherry tree cut down and had split the wood himself. He had humming birds coming to a feeder. His house was on a beautiful spot that I had never been to in our town.
Anyway, back to the story. After the Subway ZBA precedent, the ZBA voted that it was not their role to overturn P&Z decisions on matters. At their next meeting, they were reminded of this and although our matter was not on their agenda, they decided to drop it altogether. The town squandered an opportunity to settle this matter on the cheap. That is how I see it.
Our hired lawyer feels that we have a really solid case so long as we can get our day in the Supreme Court. So, here we sit, waiting for a challenge from Cumberland Farms to our appellants. People are talking about mediation. But we are just waiting. I will report on any action on this matter as it happens.
The Recusant P&Z Chair
By the way, the P&Z Chair recused himself because he was a town employee. About six months ago, there was a town vote on whether town employees could be on the P&Z and Inland Wetlands Commissions (as there is an obscure writ in State law indicating that they cannot). The town had voted at that time that they could not. However, the town ignored that vote and the Chair continued on the P&Z. We still don’t know why he recused himself on the night of the vote.
But, sometime later, there was another town vote held on whether town employees can serve on the P&Z and Inland Wetlands Commissions. There was heavy turn out for the vote. Of course our entire citizens’ group was there (now up to some 30 in number) and all of the town employees and Joe’s cronies. We had even turned to the anti-government group in town by mentioning it to our mailman and he made sure all of his buddies showed up to vote against it too. Networking at its best!
The meeting was held in the upstairs auditorium at town hall. Joe ran the meeting. As soon as the meeting was opened Sean moved for a written ballot. This was readily seconded and approved. Many folks were pissed because we had already voted this down. Why was Joe raising the issue again? Joe explained that he thought that the town lawyer had confused the issue the last time by indicating that it was not needed to the public and that might have been why some voted against it. But, now the town has been sued for it (it was included in the citizens’ group lawsuit since the chair closed the Cumberland Farms hearing so suddenly) and it has been brought to his attention by the P&Z lawyer who feels it could be a problem.
A citizen (from our group) asked how we could change appointments of P&Z members to elections instead of selections by Joe. Applause sounded for this comment. The town lawyer answered that that could be done by getting a petition for a town meeting and making it so, but that in her opinion that would be a mistake, since volunteers were hard to find. (Though, with enough meetings like the P&Z vote, we would not have a problem finding them, was my thought.) The citizen asked how many signatures such a petition would need. No one knew. After the meeting we found out it was only 20. The same citizen also asked how we could make the vote so that if it was decided that town employees could not be on these commissions, they could be removed, since we had already voted such, but they were still acting on the commissions. Applause sounded for this comment too. It was explained by the town lawyer that it was too late for this as the vote was already written and published, but that the town could make this happen by petition.
Discussion continued. Sean said that his concern was improper influence, loss of objectivity and fair representation for the town by having town employees on town commissions. He noted that the P&Z Chairman’s office for his town job, he assists Joe, is right outside Joe’s office in the town hall.
Sometime later, the written ballot vote ensued and took quite some time since there was a big crowd. The final vote was 40 for having town employees on the P&Z and Inland Wetlands Commissions and 56 against. The motion did not carry. Hooray!
Unfortunately, now the town is emotionally split. Town employees have taken all of this very personally since it was personal for them right from the start. The P&Z Chair continues to lead the P&Z meetings, showing an arrogant and dismissive regard for the vote of the people as if daring them to change it.
Stay tuned for the next big chain invasion next week...
Sometimes, when you are out in the middle of the country, and you see a gravel road, you need to make a choice. How many houses are at the end? Sometimes you can tell a lot by mailboxes. The uniform, apartment like cluster of a condominium or trailer park differs from the boxes of individual residences. This gravel road only had one box, but the gravel was new. It could be a new house built by a young couple with kids. I couldn’t see the house from the road. I wondered how far it was. The gravel was a big grade stone, very loose and difficult to ride on. The going was slow. The old farm house that I finally saw was in the middle of a meadow of weeds. The house was shabby and generally unkempt. The paint was peeling off in patches, exposing a darker gray under the whiter gray. It also appeared to need a new roof. A shutter was hanging on askew by one nail. There were some good sized oak trees scattered about.
As I wheeled my bike up the dirt path to the house, about 20 yards away an elderly lady inside
opened the door and sicked her dogs on me. Three little dogs came out barking. They were maybe mid calf high at the shoulder, built stocky and had short thick brown hair; could have been some kind of terrier. They had wide mouths, which translates into a strong bite. They were fierce little devils, snapping, barking and bearing their teeth. I began defending myself with my back against one of the large oaks, holding my bike out and throwing small rocks. I was able to keep them away from me, but not scare them off. The old lady just watched us from inside the screen door. Finally she called, “Go away.”
I replied “Please call off your dogs Ma’am.”
I threw the rocks, and the little dogs would retreat, just to come back. They were small and sneaky, and tried to get between the bike and the tree to get me. I’d sway the bike to and fro to repel them, but they worked like a tag team. This went on for some minutes. I was having a bad day; I was hungry, and losing my patience. My anger rose in me. I just wanted to kill one or all or these dogs. These were not real attack dogs, and I probably could have injured them if I really wanted to. Their owner just stood there. I knew she probably wouldn’t buy a book, and I just wanted to make sure she called off her dogs.
“Go away!” she repeated.
I was really pissed now. “Ma’am call off your dogs or I’ll cut their heads off and eat them for lunch.”
“I’m getting my shotgun!!!” And with that, she went back into the house.
Fuck, I thought, but replied, “Have a nice day.” I had no doubt that she would shoot, so I had yelled that I was leaving, made one last lunge at the dogs, hopped on my bike and rode off at the best pace I could manage given the gravel. Fortunately, the dogs did not follow. I never looked back. Going down that gravel road had been nothing but a hot and aggravating waste of time.
We sped back to the airport in
We landed at Heathrow in no time and grabbed one of those clunky looking old black cabs to
take us to our hotel for night. It was a pretty nondescript joint and the food was typical English fare; uninspired was the best you could say.
Raz picked us up the next morning for the appointment with the doctor in
While there, we toured the
I decided to check out the Adventures of Tintin books, which were written by Herge, that I had seen on display in the
When I was a kid, my older brother always had them in French. I, not having learnt French yet, could not read them, but was fascinated by the pictures. What really intrigued me was that Tintin, a journalist who lived in
Then we went to the
Bronze BastetI keep thinking that real people used these artifacts long, long ago. Pots, dishes, lamps, tablets, jewelry, just so many little bits of the stuff needed for life. These people existed and lived their lives just as we do. How did they get by? What did they do? Sometimes when I look at statues of people’s faces I can imagine them as alive, even though they lived millennia ago. I am also fascinated by hieroglyphics and can stare at them endlessly. I have always wanted to visit
It was time to hit the road again and drive to
As you might imagine, local denizens of our fair town were not happy with the way the Planning & Zoning hearing was conducted. People started talking outside the Town Hall afterwards and a meeting was set up at someone’s house for an evening later that week. A dozen or so folks got together and formed a citizens’ group to decide what could be done next. Included in this group were Sean, the other architect, the lawyer, local business men and women, townspeople, and myself.
It was decided that we needed a letter to the P&Z to protest the early closing of the town hearing in an attempt to reopen the hearing and we would attach a petition to that letter. So, a petition was prepared that pretty much said that we were not happy with the way the town center was being planned as far as the gas station went and wanted the hearing to be reopened. The petition was signed by 350 folks over a weekend in a town with only 3,100 people. This letter and petition was submitted to the P&Z and the first selectman.
It was also decided that since the next meeting was to decide whether the project would be approved or not, we should be prepared for approval and prepare an appeal. Appeals could be filed with the Zoning Board of Appeals (ZBA) or the state supreme court. The ZBA is free, except for time and preparation while the court is costly. We figured that it would cost as least $10,000. Names of lawyers were discussed. It was decided that both avenues would be taken.
Also, since the hearing was closed, nothing could be legally discussed with a member of the P&Z. The only option was to go to the first selectman, Joe.
Joe, a democrat, has been in office for 17 years. He is a very devoted selectman and loves the town. A true blue collar man, he can be seen plowing the streets, working as a constable, as well as applying for grants for funding. As a matter of fact, he was the second person to respond to my house when I had a seizure once. I have been very pro Joe ever since we moved here. So it was very hard for me to walk into his office to give him a piece of my mind.
This is what I told him while I looked him straight in the eye:
I have worked in a big corporation for 22 years and some of it was as a safety officer. I will tell you that if my company was looking at installing three times more gasoline adjacent to an elementary school and across from a public meeting area, I would tell them not to fool with it. It is just not safe. I don’t care what fire suppression systems they have. The zoning regulations say so. No increase of a nonconforming use within 200 feet of a school or place of public assembly. If I was this town’s safety officer, that is what I would tell you. Don’t fool with it. Have you asked your fire department about it? What do they think? It is just not safe. Not one more drop of gas there. One more drop and I remember; I will blame you.
He is a politician and dealt with it well. But I could see the look in his eyes. He heard me. But, damn him he wasn’t going to do anything about it. He told me that he wasn’t on the P&Z (which is bullshit because as first selectman he is on all such commissions) and his hands were tied. But that the P&Z lawyer was going to be there to advise them on this matter and we would both see that. He kept saying that he worried that if we drove Cumberland Farms away, who would come to our town?
I asked him to have faith in the town and others would come. My remark fell on deaf ears. I asked that we find out if the regulations would be followed at least. He said that he would be there and we would see that they were.
Other members of our group came to talk to Joe also. No one enjoyed success at all.
I had this terrible feeling that we were going to end up paying lawyers a shit load of money just to enforce the goddamn zoning regulations. Ack! Frustration!
Next: The P&Z votes and the surprise ending (?).
Click image to enlarge
One of the reasons I like Pete's blog so much is the Oliver Frey cartoons that he runs from time to time. He is running one starting today that is called The Burgler Boy. The drawing above is from one called Rogue that he ran on July 18th. Please be advised that these are for adults only. Enjoy!
So back I went out to the country. The houses here were close enough together that you could see the next one, but not so close that you would call it a subdivision. I saw that a man had just pulled into his driveway with his pickup truck and was getting out. So I began my approach as I rolled up on my bike, “Hah there, Mr. Jones…. Mah name is Sue Fairvieew and Ave been callin..”
He cut me right off by saying in a loud stage voice, “Yeah, just a minute, I wouldn’t want to leave a loaded gun around where the kids might get it.”
And with that he turned and I could see that
indeed he had a just taken a handgun out of the truck and now it was in both his hands pointed directly at me. I could smell the booze coming off of him from where I was standing. Oh great, armed and drunk. I went right back to my training as if by instinct.
“I know what you mean, Mr. Jones.” I said as I stared right at him and tried to maintain my calm.
A few moments that seemed like hours passed as he stared me down before he nodded seeing that he didn’t frighten me or get any reaction at all. He said, “Yup”, or something that clever, dropped the weapon to his side and went into the house. That was when I realized how close I had come to serious injury or worse and my knees started knocking. (I now know what that means). I only remember seeing the gun’s barrel. I didn’t remember seeing any kids around that day, even though it was nice and sunny.
I tried to sell him a book and wasn’t really disappointed when he didn’t buy. I was just grateful to be alive.
The next day, Dr. D and I took a cab back to the
The countryside we flew over was beautiful green farmland dotted with Tudor houses. We flew over a river; I think it was the
We caught a cab to get to the doctor’s office in Düsseldorf and the one we got was a Mercedes. Most of the cabs were. The driver flew along at blinding speeds that were, I would say, about 90 to 100 miles per hour. The scenery whizzed by. We chatted, getting to know each other. Everything went well at the hospital and we signed up another investigator.
Then we went out for lunch. The whole menu was meat, meat and more meat. Not a green vegetable in sight. Herman translated for us. I ended up ordering something that was three kinds of pork. It wasn’t bad; it was just too much meat.
We went for a walk in historic Düsseldorf. Our first stop was a bier garten.
I don’t usually drink beer so I was cool about going there, but Herman was insistent. But I figured, when in 
We were served draft Hannen Alt. It was just like drinking wine; full bodied and tasty on a hot afternoon. We sat there and people watched. It was sunny and pleasant surrounded by everyone speaking German. Before I knew it I had drunk my entire beer and Herman asked if I would like another. I responded that if I had another someone would have to carry me out. Herman gallantly volunteered to carry me without missing a beat. I thanked him but deferred on the second beer and the generous offer of assistance. I wasn’t sure I could even stand steadily. I’m not much of a drinker and I hadn’t planned on downing a whole glass of beer.
Entsp
annen mit Hannen
We continued our walk. We went past a Haribo candy store. You know they make the gummy bears? Think of se
eing bins and bins of translucent and colorful gummy worms, frogs, hearts, barrels, wheels, cars, fruits, pandas, rods, and on and on and on. I was kind of buzzed to begin with. What a trip walking into Haribo and seeing a kaleidoscope of colored candies. I think I bought some green frogs.
Next, we walked into a Steiff stuffed animal store. Steiff toys are collectibles which translates into steep prices. I was thinking to buy one for my niece, but the prices prevented me from it. (The prices on the photo are representative.) But, they are high quality items and you can tell by looking at them. Great care is taken with every stitch and quality materials are used. I enjoyed looking at them. By then my buzz had worn off.
It was time to cab it back to the
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Courage, strength, fortitude. Power not arrested in the act of judgement, but passing on to further action, sometimes obstinacy.
This is a card of courage and energy. It represents both the Lion's hot, roaring energy, and the Maiden's steadfast will. The innocent Maiden is unafraid, undaunted, and indomitable. In some cards she opens the lion's mouth, in others she shuts it. Either way, she proves that inner strength is more powerful than raw physical strength. That forces can be controlled and used to score a victory is very close to the message of the Chariot, which might be why, in some decks, it is Justice that is card 8 instead of Strength. With strength you can control not only the situation, but yourself. It is a card about anger and impulse management, about creative answers, leadership and maintaining one's personal honor. It can also stand for a steadfast friend.
