THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, October 29, 1995 TAG: 9510290043
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: ELIZABETH SIMPSON
LENGTH: Medium: 64 lines
I was grinding my teeth while sitting in the usual Chesapeake gridlock the other day when I happened to glance in the rear-view mirror.
As I grimaced, the guy behind me looked peaceful, even blissful. He was sitting in a line of traffic a mile long, but he seemed downright happy.
What was his secret?
He was playing the harmonica!
The guy had found the answer to traffic jams. He'd found a hobby. He was playing the blues while I was singing them.
That's what I need. A hobby for my commute from Chesapeake to Portsmouth and back. Instead, I am driven to writing mental letters to city leaders.
Dear Mayor William Ward, Honorable Council Members and City Manager Jim Rein:
(Oops, scratch that last name, and strike that word ``honorable'' while you're at it.)
I've been meaning to talk with you about a little problem I've noticed. While I know I ought to be bursting with pride at living in the eighth fastest-growing city in the nation, I'm instead finding it just a tad frustrating trying to enter and exit the city.
It seems there aren't enough roads. Have you noticed this?
After living here seven years, I'm familiar with the clause in the city charter that prohibits public swimming pools. (It does say that, right?) I'm also familiar with your less-is-more approach to recreational activities for children.
But the inch-by-inch pace out of the city is starting to get the better of me. Battlefield Boulevard is a parking lot in the morning. Greenbrier Parkway a demolition derby, and Dominion Boulevard a line without end.
Bridges are a major hangup. I get caught at the Great Bridge Bridge on the hour, the Centerville Turnpike Bridge on the half-hour and the Steel Bridge just about any time I drive near the thing. And the Jordan Bridge, well, let's not even talk about that one.
Of course there's no getting around Chesapeake without bridges. After all, we do have a lot of rivers, canals and swampland. (What is that lost-at-sea lament? Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink?)
My blood pressure takes a rise when I drive by schools cluttered with so many portable classrooms I can barely see the brick buildings behind them. (Will our children's schoolhouse memories be that of molded plastic and wheels?)
And the blood vessels in my brain start to bulge when I next drive by bulldozers plowing down more trees, making room for more development, so more people can move here, so there will be more cars on the road, and more kids in plastic classrooms.
And not a single ``Under Construction'' sign for a new road.
Am I missing something here? Do you think that maybe, just maybe, there's too much growth going on here? And that maybe, just maybe, the city leaders haven't built enough roads and schools to keep up with the growth? And that maybe, just maybe, they should do something about it instead of trying to give citizens a piddling rebate for salty tap water?
By the time I get to the ``Yours truly'' sign off, my letters are all capitalized and I'm trying to extract my teeth from the steering wheel.
Anyone know where I can buy a good harmonica? Nobody knows the traffic I've seen, nobody knows but Jesus . . . by CNB