Hang the code and hang the rules. They’re more like guidelines anyway. - Miss Swan in ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’
Have I mentioned that I live across the street from an elementary school? Well, I do, I live across the street from an elementary school. Nothing terribly remarkable right. The kids don’t bother me, the playground is behind the school so I hardly hear them. The only time I hear them is when they make their daily walk to the Gym/Pool down the street, and at those times I like to watch them as they run and laugh and push each other around and their teachers to their limits. The problem I have with the elementary school is the parents, the parents and their cars.
I live in a small town and like many a street in small French towns, my street is barely wide enough for two small cars to drive down side by side. Despite that fact, four times during the day, every week day, it turns into something that must resemble a cholesterol clogged artery in the heart of a man that loves his fried chicken.
Those times are, the morning drop off, which is the best of the four since it occurs over a half hour period from 8:30 to 9:00, the noon pick up of the ½ day Pre-K kids and those who go home for lunch, the 2:00 pm drop off after lunch, and the 5:00 p.m. pick up.
At those times it seems that these wonderfully proper and cultured French parents throw all laws, courtesies and kindnesses to the wind. It’s an every (wo)man for him/herself free for all and no parkable square inch of asphalt is safe, nor for that matter any unguardrailed section sidewalk.
The road is clogged with people parking on both sides facing which ever direction they happened to pull into that space from. The actual road is narrowed to one lane of traffic that is trying to move in two directions. The narrowing of the road doesn’t bother me so much. On days that I’m looking out my window hoping for some Blog inspiration, I am amused by the antics I see on that stage. The battles played out before me make the epic battles of LOTR look like child's play.
It’s really quite a dance. First, you’ll get one aggressive mom who forges ahead westward down the road, followed closely by a pack of others who hope she’s found the way out. All east bound traffic will yield the path to this aggression and wait their turn. Then some east bound mom will think ‘ENOUGH’ and she’ll find a small opening and forge through followed by her own entourage of hopeful escapees. This ballet will go on back and forth in what seems far from but in reality is, an orderly fashion. Then just as you start to get bored with the whole thing, real entertainment value is added. Into the mix comes one large city bus that doubles as the school bus. It loads up and just begins to move east and god help anyone in its way. All traffic moves hurriedly to accommodate the behemoth and the dance continues. Despite the seeming insanity, on most days, honking is kept to a minimum and against all odds, everyone survives the ordeal with hardly a scratch or a ding.
Every once in a while though, maybe on a particularly dreary afternoon when moods are already dark, the honking that reaches my window climbs to levels that until this point were largely unknown and then you can suddenly hear raised voices starting up. This is when I run upstairs for a good view of the whole stage.
You get two parents, I imagine they are both bullying and impatient FATHERS, who will not yield the artery. They are out there almost bumper to bumper, resembling the parents of opposing little league teams, in the middle of the road with their own pack of followers pressing in closely from behind. You can see their red faces through the windshield, each one honking and pointing at their opponent. Refusing to budge and inching forward until their bumpers are touching. This engine revving posturing will go on for a while until all semblance of patience is broken and then madness breaks out. Both men are out of their cars shouting and bellowing at each other. This is followed by wild and rampant gesticulations (that I don’t understand – someone needs to show me how to swear with my hands in French) pointing and accusations and just when the whole affair has reached a fever pitch and you just KNOW this time it’s going to come to blows, THE BUS starts to move!
Suddenly all bets are off, the coolest head among them takes charge and begins to direct a lane of traffic (usually the west bound lane as the bus is heading east) to back up. She walks down the length of the tangled mess gesturing to all to back up. Slowly they begin to reverse up the street, then more rapidly as they see that the bus is not stopping. (No one and nothing will deter that bus driver from his appointed rounds.) The west bound father is forced to admit defeat as he hurriedly scrambles behind the wheel of his fiery steed and reverses up the road in the direction his followers have taken. Traffic inches forward again and soon peace once again reigns on my quiet, empty street. All thanks to a bullying bus and a cool headed mom.
Four shows daily folks all from the comfort of my office chair come on over, I’ll make popcorn.
But like I said, the narrowing of the road doesn’t bother me so much. What bothers me a little and my neighbor on the right A GREAT DEAL, is the parking situation…
(TO BE CONTINUED…)
