Mean Monday

I have a morning ritual. Like most people, I’m a creature of habit. The first and most pressing issue is to put a stop to the incessant meowing by filling Riley’s bowl with fresh kibble. As a fresh pot of coffee is brewing, I turn on the news; sometimes CNN and sometimes the Today Show but never Fox News. After an hour, I realize I haven’t been paying attention to the television and it is turned off. This is Barkley’s signal that it’s time for a walk. He prefers to take a ride to Starbucks, partly because he’s lazy and partly because he likes to sniff out the occasional crumb people drop beneath their chair. He quickly succumbs to the inevitable and gets his stride on.


We walk around the neighborhood, saying hello to those that are still home. We stop to talk with a friendly neighbor, or visit with Peaches, another dog in the hood. There are more people home than there were in 2008 when I left. Many people talk about the economy, the cost of living or just their immediate struggle. Those that are retired talk about their struggle to make their fixed-income ends meet in the changing economy.


The occasional gardener with a loud blower and mower can be spotted, as well as a painter and carpenter making home repairs. There are just fewer of them. There is only one for sale sign in the neighborhood, but if I look closely, I can identify a few empty homes, likely the unattained dreams beyond the grasp of people who could never afford them. Banks are now left holding their proverbial fate, a quiet shame that leaves notorious banks pointing fingers at financially strapped and upside-down homeowners who failed to acknowledge their own budget boundaries and now point a strategic finger at greedy bank executives.


The little white golf cart vehicle with the official logo on its side was the impetus for naming Monday and Tuesday several years ago; Mean Monday and Ticket Tuesday. If you ask most anyone in the neighborhood who is the most harassing and annoying presence in the neighborhood, I believe you would likely get the same answer. It’s the woman who freely hands out $50 tickets to those that fail to recognize Mean Monday and Ticket Tuesday. The parking enforcement police are in full force to clear the way for street sweeping. Is this a way to sustain a small piece of middle class economy and keep money recycling through government or is street sweeping really necessary? Why do some streets have street sweeping and others don’t? Are my streets cleaner than those that don’t have this service? As I think about this, I wonder if this service makes money, or if it is only a sustainable economic ploy to keep a few people employed in city jobs.

As I turn the corner finishing my walk, I spot an open fire hydrant spewing gallon upon gallon of water into the gutter spilling over into the street. Nearby, a city worker sits in a pick-up truck with the water district logo on each door. I am curious. I approach his truck to ask him about the water which continues to run down the street flushing into the ditch and drains into the Pacific Ocean. He is eating his lunch; a sandwich and hardboiled egg, but is friendly and willing to tell me everything he knows about his job.


He explains that he opens the hydrant to flush the system. He shows me the numbers before the flush and tells me they are good but I have no idea what good means. The water will flow for at least twenty minutes. He explains that the flushing activity ensures that the water is clear and does not smell. I want to tell him that the water appears clear and I can’t smell anything, but I refrain because he is friendly and doing his job.


He said he was sitting around at the office today when the boss told him to go flush the water lines. Even though I know the answer, I ask him if there was a better way to get the same results. I’m careful not to run the water when I brush my teeth. This seems ridiculous as I watch the water rushing from the hydrant.

But this is what I really want to know. It is Mean Monday and there are still two unanswered questions. Will the dreaded harassing woman in the little white golf cart stop and hand him his $50 ticket? Why do we need the street sweeper with all that clean water rushing down the gutters of our street?