A tram a bus a tram a bus
Watching Jennifer Jones, in the big red chair. She might hang in there for another go at gold, four years hence. I concur.
That out of the way, we’re in a new season. Water on the road. Evident reduction in the snow stockpile. Warm, in spite of the parka. Keep this up and I can dream about lighter clothing and footwear. And leaves on the trees, and grass and flowers, and butterflies. Do I have to paint you a picture?
The mayor is unequivocal. He wants a tramway. But only if nothing else can do the job. There will be several more trips to scenic cities on other continents, for a photo op or three and a chance to sit in the driver’s seat (we know he fantasizes about it). And then, before the next election, he’ll allow the local radio shock jocks to point him in the politically correct direction. Let me rephrase that. It has nothing to do with politically correct and everything to do with politically expedient.
In fact, I don’t get why anyone thinks that the tramway would solve problems. The other drivers aren’t going to be any nicer because the public transit bus has morphed into a train. And trains can’t stop for pedestrians and cyclists in the path of progress – bus drivers have that one nailed. And rails don’t go around wrongly parked cars (we do that a lot, despite the signs and flashing lights). If the tramway was heavy enough, we could have interesting crushed car sculptures, I guess.
