From the looks of things, they'd already cleared this block on Mt. Vernon, and were tackling Brimmer Street, where I once lived.
Caveat, parker!
Once again, I was reminded just how great it is to be car free.
I last owned a car in 2007, and remain firm in my belief that unless you absolutely need a car (say, to commute to those far suburban reaches that aren't on public transpo) and/or unless you have (hah!) or can afford a parking place (a couple of months ago, someone offered $750K for a garage space a block from where I live), you're out of your mind to keep a car in downtown Boston. And I bet this holds for pretty much any downtown urban area.
It's not as if I don't enjoy driving. I do.
It's just that my adult life has been spent in Boston where, unless you need a car, you don't need a car.
When I commuted to the burbs, I kept a car.
In the mid-1980's, my company moved from Cambridge to Lexington. Boo! So I bought an ancient, rust bucket Honda Civic from a colleague who was moving to NYC, where he wouldn't need a car. I may have paid $2,000 bucks for it. Maybe $1,000.
At first, I didn't pay for a parking place, but toughed it out, roaming around for upwards of an hour when I got home in the evening to find a space. Then maneuvering my way into it - no small feat getting into a tight space, especially when you drive a standard. But I did learn how to parallel park.
With my Civic, I was towed once - not a pleasant experience - and ticketed three times, twice for the same infraction. I had parked near the Hampshire House (Cheers Bar) in what had, up until the moment I parked there, been a resident parking place. But the Hampshire House had wangled it for themselves, and I didn't notice the notice. I got one ticket at 9 p.m., the other at 6:30 a.m. On my birthday.
Then there was shoveling out after snow storms. Don't get me going on that one.
The Civic was a mess. The body was rusty and something was always going wrong, as happens with old crappy cars. Towards its end of life, the driver side door was permanently latched, and I had to crawl in over the shift. Very pleasant, especially when wearing a skirted suit.
After a stint commuting to Lexington, I took a job even further afield, in Lowell.
There, my little Civic gave out, literally coughing up its life when I pulled into the car dealership, where I'd purchased a Mercury Tracer. I got $200 for the trade-in.
I loved the Tracer, which was a sweet little car. Plus it was new, and worth protecting in a way the Civic just plain wasn't. So I started paying for overnight parking in the Boston Common Garage. An absolute bargain. I think it was only $90 a month then, for out-by-10 a.m. - in-after-4 p.m. parking. Unlimited parking on weekends, holidays, and snow days. Quite a deal.
Within a couple of weeks after leaving Wang for another Cambridge job I could get to on the Red Line, I sold the Tracer by placing an ad in the Want Advertiser, a newsprint booklet that was Craigslist before there was Craigslist.
Car free!
I was thrilled.
Fast forward and my Cambridge company, lease up, decided to upstakes and move to Burlington, right near the Burlington Mall. A swell location if you like the jungle noises at the Rainforest Cafe.
I bought a shiny blue New Beetle, and, yes, I kept a daisy in the vase.
And went back to paying for parking in the Common Garage.
A few years later, I left corporate for freelance work, but kept the car (for some daffy reason). It was paid for. I used it to get to my sister's in Salem, my other sister on the Cape. But I could no longer justify paying for parking, given I now would need fulltime parking for occasional use.
For a while, I used a parking place out back of my building, owned by a friend who wasn't using it. Ultra convenient. Until a family of rats held a picnic on my engine block. Imagine my shock when I went to top off the windshield wiper fluid and found chicken bones, fruitcake, pineapple chunks, and rat scat.
So I took to the streets, scrounging for spaces, shoveling out, parking in the Garage overnight as a last resort.
There were some months when the only time I "drove" my car was when I needed to move it for the street sweepers. I'd hop in the car at 6 a.m. and, along with a convoy of other parkers, follow the street sweepers around, claiming a space - good for two weeks - once they'd swept it. Good for two weeks, that is, if some moving company or utility crew didn't post signs claiming it for a while. So I had to check regularly.
I kept weighing the advantages of getting rid of the car (many) vs. the disadvantage (few). Then I broke my shoulder and could no longer drive a standard. So I called Goodwill (not Kars-4-Kids) and had them take it away. It made me a bit sad. It was a PITA to own a car, but I really did love that Beetle.
Since then, I've been car free.
I used to be a heavy Zipcar user, but, while I'm still a member I mostly Uber when I "need" a car. Rarely, I have to rent a car. Rarely.
For years after I was car free, by the way, I'd be walking around the neighborhood on a summer weekend, gazing wistfully at all the free parking spaces that appeared when the locals took off for their summer homes. Where were those empty spaces when I needed one?
Seeing all those towed cars the other day reminded me of just how great it is to NOT have a car.
Car free, carefree.