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Photo by Mason Resnick
Miscellaneous Musings
This is where you will find all things unclassified, new words waiting to be admitted into our vocabulary or first runs for new projects. It might be as short as a whimsical caption, a fleeting idea or a fragment that fell out of place.
Street Sweeping in New York
I never understood street sweeper trucks in New York City. The shape and size of the trucks have hardly changed since my childhood. And neither has my inability to understand why they exist. They have all the pomp and heft of something with great utility and yet they seem to have almost none.
They have large circular brushes and they spray water ahead of them but all of this just seems to move the dry leaves and dirt further along the street. Still I have some sympathy with these street sweeping trucks. I’ve had a number of office jobs like theirs.
After doing a little research, I learned that there is actually a vacuuming component to the truck’s construction. So even though it hardly looks like it, some garbage is apparently removed. Once a week in New York City, parked cars must be moved to make way for their cleaning the designated side of the street. This gave rise to the term “alternate side of the street parking.” You need to remember to either move your car to another side of the street or sit double-parked until the truck passes. Or you can pay the fine.
So much about New York City is inconvenient or ritual that shuns all explanation. The passage of the street sweeping trucks is part of the religion of living in New York.
College Reunion
After a lot of hesitation, I pressed “Submit”. So now I was going to my college’s 45-year reunion. In case I might have forgotten about the great passage of time, the reminders were all over the online forms: special requests could be made for handicap-accessible rooms and mention of a memorial service for our classmates who have passed away. I figure that if I’m ever going to go to a reunion, it’s going to be this one, before nobody can drink or dance or remember.
I’m reminded of the expression, “taking stock of your life.” I suppose a reunion like this is a milestone, a chance to do just that. I picture someone in a supermarket, removing expired goods and restocking the shelves. That’s exactly what I want to do. Maybe I could get rid of things that no longer serve me. Maybe just being there or seeing people from my past would jog my memory about the moments in my sentimental or academic life that set my course. Or maybe, and vastly more appealing, I could drink too much and reconnect with an old crush.