While I Wait For a Decent Block of Writing Time

As I was driving to the light rail station this morning, Bill and Marla, local radio deejays, suggested there were two types of people in this world: those who park their cars in the garage and those who fill the garage with crap. Apparently, the world is one big suburb where everybody has a garage.

Anyway, both claimed to be the latter type of folks and if a casual survey of my neighborhood is any indication, they are the majority. It seems the last thing anybody wants to put in the garage is a vehicle. Bikes, tools, boxes, workstations, big screen TVs, more boxes, couches and ice chests? Sure. But a real, operable car? Forget about it.

Either by virtue of having a non-SUV or by virtue of not owning much, I'm one of the oddballs in the first group. Somehow, two cars actually fit in the garage. True, there's no room to walk, but it all seems to fit without any junk ending up in the driveway or a car parked on the street, which is good news for the neighbors. Otherwise, they might have to park in front of their own place for a change.