A LITTLE MORE ACCOUNTABILITY, A LITTLE LESS ENABLING
By Max R. Weller
Somewhere in Colorado
I enjoy the wildflowers around my campsite in north Boulder, too, but the pesky voles have moved in and dug up the ground to the point where I don’t know what plant life can survive. I’d never seen these varmints until this winter, and despite being much smaller than prairie dogs, they wreak a like amount of havoc with their incessant burrowing . . . Is it roots they’re eating? The mice I can live with, but voles are like mice on steroids:
You can be sure that I don’t share peanut butter and crackers with these destructive critters.
Emergency overnight shelter at Boulder Shelter for the Homeless will be ending for the winter season after the night of April 15th, according to the BSH website. I always look forward to this harbinger of better times, because it means there will be a lot fewer people using the facility in the morning, plus it will be cleaner and smell better. Until the transients return when BSH opens again on October 15th, that is; over half of these characters come from other cities and states just to grab the free resources that ought to be available exclusively to Boulder County’s own homeless residents. Boulder, CO will NEVER be able to manage the influx of transients every year, until the nonprofits prioritize shelter/services for locals who are in need. Example: Haven for Hope in San Antonio, TX.
I’m sad to report seeing a young man board the SKIP bus northbound yesterday, shortly before noon, and refuse to pay the fare. The driver, of course, informed him that he’d be taking a chance on being caught by one of RTD’s supervisors or Boulder PD, and that riding without paying a fare is a crime. The delinquent got off at Elder & N. Broadway, and walked up to Attention Homes. This is what saddens me; I’ve supported this organization in the past, but if they’re going to serve as a refuge for self-centered punks . . .
Those of you who hand out marijuana at the corner of N. Broadway & U.S. 36 should understand that I don’t smoke it myself, and I’d prefer not to have to find someone to give it to. Why not just keep the stinking weed to yourself? I hate to be impolite, so I accept everything that generous passersby want to give me, but I can do without marijuana.
Tonight at my campsite: corn chips and salsa.