A Brief Coda to "A Parking Space to Die For"

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WHY the primeval rage and urge to MURDER over a parking space?

In an email exchange with a good friend over the posting, I expanded on the territorial premise.  If she sees this, she'll recognize this post as a rehash of what I wrote to her.

An assigned space is very much like an extension of your home.  Imagine returning to your home or apartment to find someone else occupying it.  Blood has flowed over less.

As for what I had vowed when I put my car in the Guest area, I almost felt like renewing that vow when I moved my car from it.  The one open spot I had found was directly under a tree.

The problem with trees is that they attract birds.  LOTS of birds.
Need I fill in the rest?

That oughta do it.  Continuing would redefine "Beating a dead horse".

"Them's my last words on the subject!"

(~Steve McQueen, "Tom Horn")

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A Parking Space to Die For

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The picture below was taken this morning from my bedroom window.

See that parking space designated as # 736?  It's reserved.
That's mine.

See that orange VW GT1 parked in it?
That AIN'T mine.

I came home from work, late last night, to discover this.

This (bleeped-out) left me with the choice of:
 1) Become him, and steal someone else's space.
 2) Park in the unprotected Guest area at the front of the complex.
 3) Park on the @#$%^&* street.

Problems with:

1) I don't WANT to be like him. Besides, what if that someone else is in better shape than I am (most people are), and has MY grace and temperment on this issue?

2) The day before, we all got notices warning us to be careful, because someone's car was broken into in the guest parking area.

3) Do I really have to explain my feelings on parking on the street?

So, I took photos of that car, wrote down its' VIN number, and vowed to K*LL the SOB if anything happened to my car while it was parked in the guest area.

A talk with the apartment manager this morning disclosed that he knew the owner, that the guy just hit the wrong space (his was a couple of spaces over) and he would talk to him today and resolve it. Just stay cool.

This twisted set of priorities isn't new with me. Normally I am  a very shy, retiring sort of person, who avoids confrontation as much as possible (Too "chicken" to start a fight? Maybe so.), but when my parking space is violated I fall prey to thoughts that would cause Hannibal Lecter to seek therapy.

I mean, that reserved parking space is almost as sacred as the vehicle that it was meant for. ("What's more chickensh*t than f**king with a man's automobile?  I mean, don't f**k with another man's vehicle."  ~John Travolta, as Vincent Vega, in "Pulp Fiction")

How rational is that?  Maybe, just a little. That car of mine is a major investment; one I'd have great difficulty in replacing in my present circumstances. So, would losing it KILL me?  It just might.

But, I had the same feelings way back when my financial situation would have rendered such replacement as a nuisance rather than a catastrophy.

I cannot claim this feeling is "rational" (except in my present circumstances :-),  but I know for a certainty that I am not alone here.  Perhap's it's some primordial territorial imperative: Threaten my car, or my parking space, and "May God have mercy on your soul; I probably wont."

BE CAREFUL WHERE YOU PARK!  :-)

UPDATE: The owner of that car found a strongly-worded note from me on his windshield, moved his car and left a very gracious apology on my windshield (after I had reclaimed my space), and a bottle of wine with the apartment manager as further apology.

As he handled this incident far more professionally than I did, I sincerely apologize for what I called him earlier in this post, thank him for this, and can only say to him: "We're cool!".

This is still more practice at writing. I'm finding it easier to just let the words come, and I think I did a reasonably good job (this time) of staying on-point and not wandering all over the map.

Update - 17 Sep 2011 - This ancient post appears to have gone viral the last few days, mostly visited by people coming directly from facebook.  If you don't mind, I'm really curious about just what brought you here.  Thanks.

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Some rambling thoughts on Houston

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I had hoped to do more in this blog (and still do), but life has a way of intruding.

One thing I had in mind was photo essays on Houston, and on why I like this place so much.

When I first came here, in 1964, it was not with great enthusiasm. Our family was living up in Arkansas at that time, and here I was, fresh out of the USAF, and seeing Arkansas as oblivion as far as job prospects go. At that time, I had an aunt and uncle in Pasadena (next to the east side of Houston), so I would have a place to stay while job hunting.

While in the Air Force, I had made a lot of bus trips through some pretty grimy industrial towns in the northeast (names withheld to protect those who have since improved a bit) and expected the same of a city known primarily for its' refineries.

What I found, instead, was one of the cleanest and friendliest of large cities I have EVER encountered. Also, one of the most diverse in culture.

Sure, Hollywood simply cannot set a scene here without showing someone in a Stetson hat, but that ain't the norm here (Houston Chronicle columnist Jeff Millar once observed that "If you see someone in a Stetson hat in Houston, it's either a Yankee tourist on vacation, or a professional athlete").

For the "diversity" side to this town, I wanted to get a shot of a shopping center I remembered in the southwest side of town. That shot would have shown store signs in English, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Hindi, Arabic, Hebrew, Russian, German, French and God knows what other languages (I've just counted twelve among the ones I've listed), just in ONE shopping center alone.

But, it's gone now, scattered to the winds, and replaced by (typical for here) yet MORE shopping malls.. All of the different elements I listed remain in Houston, but relocated.

Major parts of my city are as ephemeral as cloud patterns.  When I worked here, in engineering a long time ago, I observed that the builders of the pyramids just wouldn't have cut it here. We periodically tear down things here, only to replace them with something very much like what we just demolished. When structures get much over 30 years old, watch out.

It didn't occur to me then, but now I wonder if the fact that Manhatten is built on granite, and a lot of Houston is built on gumbo might have a lot to do with that; maybe you just reach a point when the developing cracks in the structure make demolition and replacement more practical than continuing upkeep.

Places I lived in as a child in San Antonio (more years ago than I like to contemplate) are still there, while apartments I had in my early days in Houston are now ancient history and replaced with, you guessed it, townhouses and condos.

Had the Alamo been in Houston, I fear it would have been replaced with a Burger King long ago. (On this gumbo, it probably would have settled and crumbled into rubble before the battle was fought).

Well, I see I've once again rambled all over the place, but I'm going to leave it as is. I still like the diversity photo-essay idea, and when I can I'll keep on the lookout for a center like the one that now appears to be history. This town's over 600 sq. miles in area; the chances of finding other such should be pretty good.

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FINALLY, a title picture I can use.

The weather finally cooperated and I got a chance to take some photos, one of which is now the background for the main title. It may change in the near future if I manage to improve on this.

At least, I'm getting some practice with the camera. I was impressed by its' features, but recoiled at all the various options and settings (explained somewhat, in micro-print, in the owners manual).

But, one can just set the Auto mode and start shooting. The other options I can get acquainted with at my own pace (much like the way you teach yourself programming; learn basics first, and add bells & whistles as you go).

Whatever the merits of this title picture, at least I'm not violating anyone's copyright by using it.


Now, I can get on with the rest of the things I want to do with this blog, making full use of the gift from a wonderful friend above.

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