Mountain Passages: Rants and a Thunderstorm

We get grumpy when choices are made for us by government and corporations without any outside input—particularly our input. By Alan Stark

No one sought anyone’s approval on the following traffic scam, bulletproof packaging, and advertising arrogance. There was no notice of change or alternate choice. There were no hearings or discussion of options. The scams, packaging, and ads simply appeared in our lives without warning, very much like a wart growing on the end of our collective nose without notice.

TRAFFIC SCAMS

Here in Boulder, and no doubt in other cities as well, the local government runs a traffic scam with cameras hidden in cars and on poles at intersections. The unsuspecting motorist, who is slightly exceeding the speed limit or misjudges the length of a yellow light, is greeted with a substantial flash signaling she will be receiving a ticket in the mail from the city of Boulder. The ticket includes a lovely picture of the perp’s face and license plate plus a ticket for a tidy sum.

This is a scam for any number of reasons, starting with the fact that a citation for a traffic violation should come from a certified law officer, not a city government clerk. These cameras take work away from our constables. But what is particularly unfair about these cameras in vehicles is that they are located in spots where there is a ridiculously low speed limit or there is a transition from an in-town speed limit to a county speed limit. In the case of the high volume intersections, the yellow light, which used to stay on for enough time to get through the intersection is now on for a very short period. It is simply not possible to get through the intersection on the yellow anymore.

We need to tell city governments that we are not to be preyed upon as supplemental revenue source–our sales and property taxes are enough.

A thunderstorm is rolling up from the south and pelting the Flatirons to the west of Boulder with sheets of rain. The wind roars over our house. The trees branches in front of the storm fly about spastically as if controlled by a huge collective force. The power of it all is magnificent to watch. The storm makes me smile.

When we travel separately or together my best friend and I often buy each other bells, particularly small temple bells that we hang from the trees in the yard. Each of the bells has a string attached to clapper to which I have added a piece of basswood that flits around in the wind. The temple bells tinkle in the blasts of wind from the thunderstorm. It is a tiny, yet profound sound, against the roar of the wind. 

PLASTIC PACKAGING

Who thought of the idea of encasing thousand of products in ballistics-proof plastic that requires a utility knife or kitchen shears to open? And why is it that the plastic sheeting is usually four of five times as large as the product? Is this to command shelf space or so we won’t stuff the product in a pocket and shoplift it?

Who voted on sealed plastic containers that don’t allow us to actually handle the product before buying it, or is that the idea behind the plastic entombment of products? And is there a nationwide insurance policy to cover those of us who have stabbed ourselves trying to get these packages open?

So plenty of things in life are frustrating and nonsensical–we adjust. But we also have a stewardship issue with this plastic. It goes directly to the dump, it’s not on the recycle list on the lid of our recycling bins. Who knows the half-life of this plastic in the dump?

Why would we buy a product packaged so we can’t steal it, packaging that doesn’t allow us to inspect the product, and goes directly to the landfill once we’ve pried it open? Let’s not—let’s stop buying stuff that we can’t handle before we buy it.

IMG_7950The winds drop off for a moment as the sky darkens. There is this pause before the storm as if this force is taking a deep breath before blowing through the flatlands and on out to Nebraska where thunderstorms go to die for lack of interest.

I stand in the maw of the garage watching the storm and thinking of my Dad. He was a meteorologist who had a chair in his garage where he would sit and watch storms. I move to get my chair. He now watches the storms from his chair in assisted living, but he still watches and marvels at the power of it all. I marvel at him.

I move my chair to the drip line from the garage roof. The leading drops of rain create huge splats on the driveway. Once, on a motorcycle north of Fairplay, I watched one of these drops from way above me arc into the faceplate on my helmet and totally obliterate my vision for several moments. Now, I can feel the mist rebounding from the drops on my bare feet. 

MOVIE ADS

RedbandAt what point did any of us decide to have three or four long advertisements blasted at us at the local theater before the trailers or the movie?

No question, advertising people (a questionable use of the term) will do anything to get their product in front of the public. For years, advertisers have paid movie makers substantial fees to have their product used as props in movies. “Product placement” is bad enough, but inflicting ads on us in the theater is outrageous. We, in fact, have paid money to a theater to see advertisements. A dream come true for advertisers, people paying to see their work (yet again, another questionable use of another term).

We aren’t going to stop going to the movies, but we can stop buying products advertised in movies. We could, for example, drink rum and generic cola from here on out.

IMG_7907And now the thunderstorm gets serious with pounding rain that hits so hard on the pavement that it appears to be going up. If these sorts of storms are stationary or at least moving slowly, they create flash floods here in the High Country. Flash floods have been known to destroy stupid structures built by man. 

Alan Stark is a free-lance writer who lives in Boulder and Breckenridge with this blue-eyed person and her dog.

Photos by Doug Schnitzspahn

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