Today’s editorial is about editorials and editorialists. Sara Hoffman, a regular for this community column, is moving on to greener pastures, we presume. I will miss her columns, not simply because I agree with most of her perspectives, but because I admire her chutzpah. An editorialist is at her best when she stirs the pot to stimulate thought. Take community columnist Erik Rush, for example. I disagree with every opinion he expresses, but I have great respect for his ability to fan the flames.
What a privilege to pontificate on a litany of topics, with a guaranteed audience out there; it’s a writer’s dream. Granted, there are challenges. As a local businessperson, I rely on community relationships to keep the kids fed. So it’s tricky when clients are also readers. One commented this week, “Oh, I agree with you most of the time,” his polite way of saying, “not all that often.”
Sara’s conversation with her dentist paralleled my recent chat with my dental hygienist. She offhandedly mentioned the infamous roundabout under construction at Taft Hill and Vine. But I couldn’t glean her leanings, pro roundabout or con. Now that was a dilemma. A strong-willed person was holding very sharp instruments in my mouth, and the ball was in my court to reply. I dodged the opening and mumbled, “Don’t get me started.” I weenied out.
Sara, I let you down. You’ve taught us “speak your peace.” So let me set the record straight. To my dental hygienist, whose name matches a famous song by The Police (but that’s where the similarities end, I assure you!) let me opine on roundabouts.
For Fort Collins, for right now, they are smart. We should be building these, to move more traffic and reduce accidents. The complaints have been deafening, but they tend to be backed by a personal anecdote, like, “such-and-such town tried one and it was a snarled mess.” Meanwhile, the facts, grounded in statistics, make quite a convincing case based on overall reduction in accidents, and more important, reduced fatalities of up to ninety percent.
When you step back from it, the concept behind a traditional intersection, which proliferated across America during slow-moving horse-and-buggy times, is a little bit crazy. It depends one hundred percent upon the alertness, judgment and willingness of another human—a notoriously unreliable organism—to halt when commanded. Now, factor in cars and the odds of serious injury or death from a side collision and the alternatives become attractive.
Therefore, to those of you predicting the end of civilization as we know it, round out your thinking and take comfort in the fact that your town is becoming safer.
There, I got that off my chest, and I feel better.
But Sara and Erik, in honor of your impressive track records of gutsy columns, I must go further. Dare I? My wife advised against it, fearing that this next opinion might foment riots in the streets. Yet free expression must prevail.
That ridiculous eyesore painted on the foothills above our town has got to go. They say it stands for “Aggies” but I think it stands for anachronism. And that’s coming from someone whose wife is a CSU grad and current employee. Plus, with my alma mater way east of the Mississippi, this is not the voice of college rivalry. I just think it’s time to stop spraying sanctioned graffiti all over the prettiest natural attraction of our town, the Foothills, simply because boosters (er, rabble-rousers and vandals) got away with it in 1924.
Sara, how’d I do?
