Say no to cracks!
I’ve noticed a different feel under my wheels for the past week or so as I fly on the cycle down Elwood, en route to the train station.
The street looks different as well.
I finally put my finger on it today. Well, not literally, because in the 90 degree heat at 8:10 this morning, that would’ve left me with an icky tar smear on my digit.
That’s because it looks as though the hale fellows of our town’s public works department have filled in every last cranny in Elwood Avenue with bucket-loads of tar filler. Not only ever pothole, which is great, but the centimeter-wide crevice between the two giant slabs that make up the street, smack in the middle of the yellow lines, as well as the half-inch drop-off on the side of the road, where the concrete street slabs hit the crappy paving that represents the would-be shoulder. And every tiny crack, indentation and imperfection.
Anyone know how to turn off this tar gun?
Indeed, Elwood is a wild swirl of abstract tar art, as if an anal-retentive soul was set free with an endless supply of sticky black ooze. It’s all one level plane now, the black tar a stark contrast to the whitish-gray street slabs.
Potholes are filled lightning quick here in town. Motorists appreciate it, and, trust me, cyclists appreciate it even more.
But this really looks like busy work. I just don’t know that we needed every last nook filled with tar, especially when everyone’s unhappy about their annual tax bill. And I just can’t imagine that anyone complained about that centimeter-wide gap in the middle of Elwood.
Maybe a chain gang of convicts did the job, giving them a day in the sun at no cost to tax payers. I hope so.