Pun

Cull De Sac

Posted on January 28, 2010 at 12:01 am

by Richard

First off, yes, I know the title looks like it’s spelled wrong. It’s a pun, or a play on words. You’ll get it in a little bit. Seems there a bit of a kerfluffle around now about cul de sacs, streets that have one entrance and then end in the opposite side with a circle in which to turn around. According to an urban planning professor, they’re bad. Bad for kids, bad for parents, bad in general.

Blah, blah, blah. That’s from me. (notice how I take such reasoned discourse when someone espouses an opinion that’s different from my own? I am the epitome of polite debate, yeah?) Still, despite the withering nature of my own attack, I feel the professor has a bit more to say. Shall we?

. . . if you live on a typical cul de sac, there is probably no way for them to walk to anything fun — the movies, the mall. So either we are stuck chauffeuring them (that’s why cul de sacs are so hard on moms), or they have to drive themselves, sometimes for miles, even to get a Slurpee. And the least safe place for teens to be is behind the wheel of a car.

Now, think of the way cul de sac after cul de sac empties into one, big access road. Usually those roads are wide and highway-like. Cars speed down them so fast, woe to any weirdo who wanted to walk to the grocery. But of course, that’s usually a moot point, because in the newer developments, there aren’t any sidewalks anyway. Result?

Flab!

Flabby kids and parents. Unlike our grandparents, we have no way of walking anywhere. And by the way, walking used to be a great way to meet the neighbors, too. Now everyone’s sealed inside their house or a car (and sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference).

Those are actually the thoughts of Lenore Skenazy, the lady to whose blog I linked. She’s paraphrasing the urban planning professor. Don’t you just love the complete and direct sourcing I give to you all? It’s impeccable.

But back to the problem at hand. And that problem is that they’re wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. And I’m not just saying that because we live in a cul de sac. Although it helps. I’ve talked to a lot of our neighbors here about this and we all agree that these dudes and dudettes don’t know what they’re talking about. Our cul de sac lets out onto a smallish, but still busy street. Our little dudes get all the street-crossing problems they can handle, considering cars hardly ever actually stop at the stop sign.

Hop on a bike and they can ride along sidewalks to a small shopping center that has everything from a grocery store and a pizza joint to a hair cutting salon and a UPS store. I really think it’s the best of both worlds. We got a semi-isolated place for our little dudes to roam around in and we also get the ability to teach them about crossing streets and finding their own entertainment on a bike. That way they won’t get so fat there’ll be a natural-selection cull down the road. (See? There’s the pun. Not much, but it was all I had.)

I say, enjoy the cul de sacs for what they are. And, if you want to work on the little dudes and dudettes, just kick them out and lock the door for a while. They’ll get the hint.

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Drink Up

Posted on January 7, 2010 at 12:01 am

by Richard

It’s a very strange thing to hear someone say you said something smart and you don’t even remember it. Of course, I’ll always take the compliment and start preening. Inside, of course. Bald doesn’t preen well.

Anyway.

My brother-in-law and his wife and two boys were at the house for a week after Christmas. The little dudes are 4 and 6, which means that adults can often be counted upon to pour their drinks.

So I was in the kitchen pouring some Juicy Juice (to which Speed Racer has now become addicted) for the youngest little cousin dude and I, without thinking (as I do so many things), poured him about a fourth of a cup. My sister-in-law, let’s call her Blondie, happened to be in the kitchen at the same time and watched me pour.

“Only pour as much as you want to clean up,” she said. I thought that sounded pretty profound. Turns out I was right. “You taught me that,” Blondie continued.

I was quietly flabbergasted. I couldn’t even remember having said anything like that. I can be profound. Who knew?

On further thought, I realized that saying could apply to a lot of things. Basically it’s talking about peering into the misty future and trying to foresee the natural consequences of your actions.

Say you put your cup near the edge of a table and there’s little dudes around. What are the odds that cup is going to hit the ground? I know it’s not realistic, but I’m thinking that the odds increase drastically if there’s nice white carpet under that fruit punch. Maybe it just feels that way.

I’m thinking it might even be a good idea to remember that one for the future, no pun intended.

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Murder Most Foul

Posted on October 24, 2009 at 12:01 am

by Richard

Oddly enough, I’m not going to make a pun about foul/fowl. I know. Hard to believe. Still, this is a serious topic. See, yesterday I wanted to kill someone. Well, okay, not kill them, but at least maim them severely and with such gruesome force and malevolence that the beating would stand as a holy terror to those who would do similar for generations.

Full of myself just a bit, I know. It’s just that I really get irked when I see some unthinking jerk to this. Basically, they were trying to kill some kids. Or, if not kill, then at least damage.

See, they were speeding through a school zone. Now, I know that I’ll probably be the first to speed most anywhere, but I will not and have never done more than the speed limit in a school zone. Admittedly, it might be because I saw a friend of mine get hit by a car and fly up into the air, broken, before plummeting to the ground. That sort of thing leaves a mental scar.

Whatever the cause, though, I do know that speeding through a school zone is a good way to hurt some kid darting out into the street. That’s why you have to go slower.

This lady, though, clearly didn’t pay attention. I was just entering the school zone on Friday at 25 mph and this lady passed me like I was standing still. Going 50 at least. Because of a turning lane in front of the school, she had to stop just where I had to turn. I pulled up to her, controlling my seething anger, and wagged my finger at her while hanging out the window.

“Slow down. It’s a school zone!” She looked over at me and then deliberately turned her head to the front and pulled away.

I got back in the car.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” said the appallingly appropriately named Speed Racer.

At which point I took the time to explain the importance of obeying the speed limit in school zones for the next 47 seconds until he had to get out to go to school.

Still, I’d like to reiterate this for added emphasis: You don’t ever — ever — speed through a school zone. Set a good example for your little dudes and let the other little dudes live.

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