Having read the Bible, I know that Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” In The Life of Brian they also found that the developers of dairy delights were also blessed. I think that we need a new blessing for those of us who must drive the perilous and perturbing peaks know as the parking garage. “Blessed are they who go in circles for they shall be called wheels.” Am I the only one who gets dizzy while trying to find a parking place?
I know there needs to be something to meet our parking paradoxes. Imagine if we didn’t have parking garages downtown, near sports spaces, or at the mall on Black Friday. (NOOOO! I can’t find a parking place at the mall!! What shall we do?! Let’s go get a beer instead!) Parking downtown would be more of sport without these garages. Every 53 minutes, you’d have to go down and put more money in the meter. We could make it into an Olympic event! “Look how Phil, wearing his Citicorp jersey is beating out the German from BMW and the Sony exec from Japan! Watch the British are sneaking past the meter maid. The Frenchman doesn’t have the right change. It’s going to be close!!! The US wins the gold! USA! USA!” So, maybe we need them downtown.
I must admit that they would be a rather pleasant addition to some locales. Imagine that you are in a southern university town with a football stadium that seats 105,000 people. If you were to do a little math… figuring 4 people per car…divided by 105,000 people…you’d need…hmmmm…lots of parking places. There is a southern city in eastern Tennessee that has such a university with that exact seating capacity. I will refrain from telling you its name (but it rhymes with “foxville”) There are about 178 parking places. If you are going to a football game there, let me just say “Good luck and wear comfortable walking shoes.” I think bigger parking garages would be amply appreciated there.
I can handle a roller-coaster with twists and turns. The thought of white water rafting get me going. However, there is nothing that compares to the dizzying excitement of entering the parking garage. You take your ticket. The bar raises! You’re off, speeding through the aisles at the speed of smell. You race to find a space. Dodging and driving up one way and down the other. Then you see the glow of an empty space. You skid to a stop just as someone else pull into your place.
No wonder I’m dizzy when I get out of there. Or it could be the beer I drink after finding a space.