By on September 17, 2014

Feel-good posturing for parking Priuses

DISSTongueJackson Hole, Wyoming — There is something inherently wrong about Big Brother establishing preferential parking for hybrid vehicles. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Wait, yes I can. It’s dumb.

I feel a small amount of shame every time I’m frustrated by zooming into an overlooked sweet spot right up front only to find out it’s been set aside for the handicapped. Of course, handicapped in Jackson Hole doesn’t carry the same meaning as handicapped in, say, Cleveland.

A handicap parking spot in Jackson is rarely used by a 22-year-old with a shattered fibula ski wreck badge of honor. It’s mostly “bogarted” by high-net-worth Lexus drivers still nursing a placard from their doctor for that bursitis flare-up they suffered through three winters ago. I’ve seen 20-somethings drag themselves from the nether regions of a stadium-sized parking lot, too proud to admit they have to use crutches, while able-bodied blue hairs bound from handicapped spots with an effected limp created merely from lugging an overstuffed Louis Vuitton bag.

But this business of creating priority parking for people gullible enough to believe they are saving the earth while settling for all the acceleration of a rider lawn mower is laughable, not laudable. I’m already made to feel like a convict when I insist on plastic instead of paper at the checkout stand of the valley’s numerous eager “green” retailers. I can’t count how many times I’ve been asked if I want a bag when paying for, like, 17 items. Yes, I want a bag. Who do I look like, Bobby May?

Hybrids are more expensive, so this is valet parking for the elite. But it isn’t the socio-economic injustices that form my core argument. It’s the idea that our “’Tis of Thee” would want to meddle even further into the lives of Americans by patting motorists on the back for plugging their car in at night and nugie punching Dodge Ram truck owners.
Then there’s the sticky business of defining which type of planet preservers can take advantage of government incentives. Our illustrious town council was asked to weigh in on the pressing matter of deciding whether an F350 dually running on French fry juice was as almighty as a four-cylinder Prius powered by six triple-A batteries.
More energy has been wasted saving energy in Jackson Hole.

Time (capsule) is relative
DISSTongueThe thing about time capsules is, you forget where you put them. And you forget why you put them there.
Members of the Masonic Lodge No. 48 buried a time capsule the other day to commemorate River Rock Assisted Living’s 10th anniversary. They intend to dig it up a century from now to make fun of how out-of-date their toothbrushes look. Methinks they’ll forget they ever buried the thing under a 7,000-pound, 4-foot high granite monolith before the Roaring Twenties hit – 2020, that is.

For instance, the class of ’66 Jackson-Wilson School buried a time capsule to be dug up 100 years from then. They forgot all about it until the school was bulldozed in 2003 to make way for the Center for the Arts.
One River Rock inmate told the News&Guide that it was hard to believe they have ink and paper that will last 100 years. That’s cute. Egyptian writings on papyrus lasted at least 5,000 years, and that was way before BIC pens and only slightly before the Freemasonry was established.

Speaking of the Masons, their shrouded-in-secrecy openness will virtually guarantee the geriatric geocache will be lost forever to poor memories and lack of communication. Actually, the likeliest end game for a time capsule in this valley is for it to be uncovered 837 days after it was buried when the next developer comes along razing buildings, uprooting trees, and otherwise disturbing the dead in the name of progress.

If you really want something to be preserved, pristine, and untouched for 100 years, just give it to my accountant and tell him you need it signed right away. I guarantee it’ll still be sitting on his desk 1,000 years from now when future archeologists try to piece together the meaning of an ancient dance ritual called Zumba.

Power to these people
PROPSFistbumpYou gotta hand it to Lower Valley Energy. They go the extra mile when it comes to serving the community.

LVE, on more than one occasion, has installed nests for osprey up their power poles when some silly goose steals theirs. Last week, LVE crews spent an afternoon raising perfectly compliant power lines on Budge Drive after a Rhodes Scholar and his buddy used a couch and a hockey stick to snag a pair of sneakers off a high voltage wire. (Please tell me he said, “Hold my beer” before lighting himself up).

Guess LVE just has a soft spot for birdbrains.

About Jake Nichols

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