Oh, gaaahhh.
Here we go again. The City of Baltimore has now deemed it not only advisable, but necessary, to blow $800,000.00 for a Case Study. (Observe my fluency in Corporate Psychobabble, won't you?) This Case Study is meant to soothe the worried brows of City Council about the yet-again proposed trolleys connecting the waterfront with Johns Hopkins, the Art Museum and the prettier and snobbier neighborhoods of North Baltimore.
Of course, my first reaction was: "Why do we need to study this? There were streetcars on those same streets from 1870 until 1965."
Imagine my horror when I read of the purpose of the Case Study.
You see, I could understand that a Case Study might be vaguely, if bureaucratically, useful if one were to study the Impact upon the Neighborhoods and the People. Or--God save me from starting sentences with prepositions--even their impact upon traffic.
Oh, no, my children. The Case Study is going to decide if the newly-proposed streetcars will interfere with existing power and telephone lines, and if they will be able to scale the hilly topography of downtown Baltimore.
Oh. My. God.
Electric streetcars first hit the scene in Richmond, but the first truly viable electric streetcar system was Baltimore's. (I am very pleased that my home cities share the glory.) Somehow, without case studies, Baltimore's streetcar system was able to traverse the hills of downtown in 1885. If the technology of that long-ago era could handle it, how could our modern version fail? And the utility lines? For Calvert's sake, people! those utility lines were installed when the old streetcars were still plying the streets! This really shouldn't be a difficult question.
Now, here's the thing: Baltimore is, more or less, built in a giant bowl. Its hills all slope down toward the waterfront. Some streets are very steep and therefore didn't have streetcars. (That's why San Francisco has cable cars; their operating system allows them to be pulled up the city's ramrod-steep hills.) Our cars were routed wisely to allow for both heavily-travelled routes and gentle grades. They were also studiously routed away from the houses of the lordly aristocracy on Charles street where it passes through Washington and Mount Vernon Places. (Notably, modern buses--which are much noisier--are routed directly up Charles street.)
In the grand scheme of the City's budget, $800K is a flash in the pan. Honestly, though--one quick look into 1950 will demonstrate that the Case Study is pointless. The two "problem questions" aren't problems at all. If the City wants so badly to blow that much money, it could better do so supplying more chalk and textbooks.
Or maybe the money could be spent on giving every last man, woman and child a lemon stick on the Fourth. That would make me very happy.
Here we go again. The City of Baltimore has now deemed it not only advisable, but necessary, to blow $800,000.00 for a Case Study. (Observe my fluency in Corporate Psychobabble, won't you?) This Case Study is meant to soothe the worried brows of City Council about the yet-again proposed trolleys connecting the waterfront with Johns Hopkins, the Art Museum and the prettier and snobbier neighborhoods of North Baltimore.
Of course, my first reaction was: "Why do we need to study this? There were streetcars on those same streets from 1870 until 1965."
Imagine my horror when I read of the purpose of the Case Study.
You see, I could understand that a Case Study might be vaguely, if bureaucratically, useful if one were to study the Impact upon the Neighborhoods and the People. Or--God save me from starting sentences with prepositions--even their impact upon traffic.
Oh, no, my children. The Case Study is going to decide if the newly-proposed streetcars will interfere with existing power and telephone lines, and if they will be able to scale the hilly topography of downtown Baltimore.
Oh. My. God.
Electric streetcars first hit the scene in Richmond, but the first truly viable electric streetcar system was Baltimore's. (I am very pleased that my home cities share the glory.) Somehow, without case studies, Baltimore's streetcar system was able to traverse the hills of downtown in 1885. If the technology of that long-ago era could handle it, how could our modern version fail? And the utility lines? For Calvert's sake, people! those utility lines were installed when the old streetcars were still plying the streets! This really shouldn't be a difficult question.
Now, here's the thing: Baltimore is, more or less, built in a giant bowl. Its hills all slope down toward the waterfront. Some streets are very steep and therefore didn't have streetcars. (That's why San Francisco has cable cars; their operating system allows them to be pulled up the city's ramrod-steep hills.) Our cars were routed wisely to allow for both heavily-travelled routes and gentle grades. They were also studiously routed away from the houses of the lordly aristocracy on Charles street where it passes through Washington and Mount Vernon Places. (Notably, modern buses--which are much noisier--are routed directly up Charles street.)
In the grand scheme of the City's budget, $800K is a flash in the pan. Honestly, though--one quick look into 1950 will demonstrate that the Case Study is pointless. The two "problem questions" aren't problems at all. If the City wants so badly to blow that much money, it could better do so supplying more chalk and textbooks.
Or maybe the money could be spent on giving every last man, woman and child a lemon stick on the Fourth. That would make me very happy.
1 Comments:
OMG. I have not thought of lemon sticks in years. The mere mention makes me wistful...
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