As I dragged myself out of bed this morning at Obnoxious O'clock to move my car, it occurred to me that the one positive aspect of alternate-side-of-the-street parking (against a torrent of negative ones) is that it teaches you not to dwell on past accomplishments. You circled around for an hour, you burned about $20 worth of gas, and you found the perfect spot? So what. Go out and do it again. Keep going. Move forward. Stay one step ahead of that dyspeptic, hemorrhoidal traffic cop who feeds on parking tickets like a vampire on blood. Sweet sustenance, in $115 increments.
By that analogy, all car owners in NYC are lovechildren of Van Helsing and Sisyphus.
Today will be an adventure for all sorts of reasons, not least because from 5-7pm I'll be at Tea Lounge, with a bunch of other bloggers who are not men, signing copies of "Sleep Is For the Weak." Since I will have my car with me, I have no confidence that I'll be able to park it anyplace legal. So if you'd like to come by and say hello, I'll be the one circling the block with the windows open. Just hurl your book in my back seat, and when I come back around I'll hurl it back at you.