…when the traffic is like a box of sardines, I mean, we all have our colorful box we are in within the box of the lanes of the road we are all funneled into, this was one of those mornings, I was actually in decent enough mood, got out early, but something about the combination of a grey autumn day, no leaves, barren trees, feeling eyes baring down on me even though, where the hell am I supposed to go? god forbid I leave an inch of pavement in front of me for the car behind to see, you have the weavers who think that mystically or magically they will find a path, as you pass them sitting in your same lane time and again (and the little inner laugh there in), and then there is the drab, surely made worse on days like these, maybe it is the general consensus of consciousness of the melee of drivers on this path, maybe some public pathos that permeates and amplifies the dread? why are our roads and bridges and barriers so bland? so barren, so utilitarian, so matter of fact, broken cracks, barren sand, scraggly weeds entwined with garbage lagged on the edges, I wonder, if even only for a moment, or just some break in the haze, if these non monuments could be given some aesthetic artistic arch – perhaps funded by a local business or such, to bathe these like-artic shores with some inspired light, some architectural flair, something to lessen the obvious blight, would that make a difference in this daily flight? I think of European cities and all the ancient machinations there, perhaps a dream, or a dumb American’s idea of Europe I suppose… but I propose a splash of dash, is that too much to impose on our dreary roads?