Friday, April 11, 2008

Only in Boston

So, I had one of those "only in Boston" moments last week...

Next to my house is a very small patch of woods--we're basically talking about the 50 yards between my driveway and the commuter rail tracks, consisting mostly of trash and a few trees. Small, yes, and a rare find in the city, proven by the fact that they are about to tear it all down to build a park. But for now, it's nice to look out my kitchen window and see something other than cement. Not much happens in these woods, save for the occasional group of kids using it as a hangout after (and sometimes during) school. We call them "The Pot Boys"--I'll let you figure out why. One time they lit a small fire and left it there, and the fire department had to come and put it out. Those firemen were NOT happy about being called away from the Red Sox game to put that fire out, that's for sure.

ANYWAY, last week I was looking out the window and noticed a police car that had pulled up to the edge of the woods. There's a policeman that lives down the street from me, so I didn't think much about it, except that about a half hour later, I could still hear his car engine. Looking again, I saw that another police car had pulled up and the two officers were conversing and pointing into the woods, as they both donned rubber gloves. Naturally, all of the episodes of CSI I've ever watched came into my head and I thought I had a crime scene on my hands!

I went to another window so that I could get a better look at where they were pointing, and sure enough, there was a garbage bag with something very heavy in it. I, of course, began looking around for clues, witnesses, tracks, and my David Caruso sunglasses when I saw a public works truck backing up to the edge of the trees. The policeman was struggling to pick up the garbage bag when it finally ripped open and I got a look at what was drawing all this attention to my little patch of woods: parking meters. Stolen, hacksawed, busted-open-and-left-in-the-woods, parking meters. About 8 of them. They carried them over to the trash truck, threw them in, and were on their way.

Now, this left me with several questions for the perpetrator. A) Who are you, that you went to all this trouble? Hacksawing them off their posts is one thing, but then somehow busting them open, stealing the change and then dumping them in the woods? Really? B) How much money could there really be in one of those things, because I see them being emptied all the time. Really? C) As much as we've all, at one time or another, felt some--ahem--strong emotion about getting a ticket or not having a quarter when we need it, this is a pretty extreme act of parking rage. Was it really worth it, especially since you're probably going to use a lot of those quarters for, um, parking meters? Really?

And as I reflected on what happened that day, it dawned on me that this is so often how we are in our spiritual lives...Just kidding, I don't have a great spiritual analogy for this one. Just a funny Boston story. :)