I need to vent!
Earlier this morning, right around 6:30 a.m., I was sympathetically advised by the benevolent gate guard, who I quickly learned was a contracted guard with Wackenhut, that no longer will I be allowed to ride my road bike into CB Smith Park until 8:00 a.m. Riding my bike into the park before the summer-camp traffic and the Memorial Hospital West employee traffic arrives, which assuredly makes riding in the park dangerous to your health, is strictly prohibited. They would prefer that I ride my speedy bike on the local streets where kamikaze, dysfunctional, oblivious drivers are common place. If it’s all the same, thanks but no thanks, I’ll wait ‘till eight in the morning and take my chances inside the park.
I don’t know what’s worse to contend with, though, the multitudes of crazed mothers (literal definition) who are dropping off their kids at day camp or the Memorial Hospital employees who must park their vehicles in the park due to lack of employee parking across the street on hospital grounds.
Grading which ones are the worse drivers, I would call it a draw. Both groups of people typically have their cell phones plastered to their ears giving last minute instructions to their spouses, any kids they purposely left behind, or their house pets. Yes, I said “house pets.” Trust me; many house pets are brighter than their owners, at least the ones I’m seeing entering and leaving the park with fire and brimstone in their eyes. They could easily be mistaken for amateur race car drivers on steroids.
According to the compassionate gate guard, there is absolutely no reason or reasons why road bikers should not be allowed in the vacant park before the motor-carriage onslaught. And dusk is a perfect time to bike, much better than later in the day when the sun’s rays and high heat melt even the strongest biker.
About the only possible danger in the park at that early hour are stray possums or raccoons scrounging for their morning vittles.
Despite the illogical idiocy of the park’s operating hours, I wasn’t going to allow their stupidity to ruin my biking plans or day. More determined than ever, I rode back to the park at 8 a.m. and managed to get in 12.20 miles before any noticeable signs of melting or before I became county-park road kill. I even survived playing dodge car with numerous park-going moms, pops, and outwardly disgruntled Memorial Hospital employees.
And now for the Hollywood Beach parking debacle!
Unwilling to be financially assaulted by the City of Hollywood and their new fivefold price increase, Janet and I have concluded that we no longer will park at the Johnson Street band shell or in any of Hollywood’s parking lots or garages. The band shell area stinks of urine, anyway. So parking elsewhere will be no big loss. Not only does the area stink of urine, but often we have been apprehensive regarding the vagrants and drunks that pass out and sleep in the doorways and adjoining alleyways.
Just when we concluded that we would give up our Sunday long runs, Janet came up with a brilliant thought. She tags it as one of her better light bulb moments!
Recalling where we regularly parked during the era when we used to run on Fort Lauderdale’s ocean boardwalk, Janet and I went to the computer, opened up Bing Maps, selected a bird's eye view of the Hollywood/Dania Beach area and quickly spotted a safe and convenient place to park, a Publix Market not but 1.3 miles from the beach’s attractive boardwalk. And I’m betting that there are no vagrants, drunks or putrid smelling urine in Publix Market’s parking lot. And if one doesn’t wish to park at Publix, one block closer to the beach is a Walgreen’s Drug Store on the same side of Sheridan Street as Publix.
Problem solved and we get to keep what monies we would have placed inside Hollywood’s gluttonous master meters.
Now all we have to do is determine where we wish to eat breakfast immediately after our Sunday boardwalk runs.
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