No Way to View Anything

I had a notion:  head east.  Normally on the weekends, if we think to get out from the suburbs to the country we go north or maybe northwest.  East is still a flat plane for some distance.  But on the map I did notice two reasonably sized parks.  One of them even had nice pictures associated with it:  "The Health Bridge Wetland Park."  It'll be nice.  It's just about spring.  “We'll walk around on the wetlands."

One turned to two and two turned to 3:30PM or so, before we were on our way.  I drove.  I put on that beautiful album by "The Internet" which I'd heard last week at the gym "Ego Death."  All weak I was trying to remember the name of the crew-cutted singer.  "Constance?"  "Egg?"  What was her name?  I was right when I was thinking monosyllabic:  Syd.  Aka, Syd the Kid.  But it didn't matter.  My older one, whom I'd largely thrown it on for had her headphones on.  "Can't we all just listen together?"  "No."

It's mostly tolled highways and mostly flat expanses of ex-burban nothingness along the way east from the airport.  It begins to look a bit like Shandong in the places where people appear to be living as they did thirty years ago.  In this direction and in that direction there are commanding stands of residential towers that look like they must signify something, like a town or a city.  Rather they are one after another project blocks, which replace entire networks of small villages, much like the ones here in our community. 

Only one or two wrong turns.  The British buy's voice on Apple Maps, who sounded so convincing when he was explaining where to go in Positano, is making a mess of Romanized Chinese.  Blowing by our destination, I did a U-turn and soon pulled into the enormous and completely vacant parking lot for the Health Bridge Wetland Park.  It didn't look good.  But I got everyone out of the car and we proceeded ahead over to one building that was closed and then to a guard station.  A young guy jumped out and told me the Health Bridge Wetland Park would open in about ten days on March Fifteenth.  No, there was absolutely no way to view anything or in any way enter beyond this point until such time. Sorry.  I'd have felt worse if it looked inviting.  But it didn't. 

We, me easier than they, found places to urinate, behind trees, behind cars, away from our guard and his guardhouse.  Then we drove back home, precisely the way we'd come.  Perhaps we'll return here for the grand opening.  "OK.  OK.  We can listen to FM Radio on the way home."

Saturday, 03/04/17