I read in this morning's Trib that parking at some of my favorite beaches will now cost $1 per hour. That would include the beach next to the planetarium and the 63rd street beach. I'm hotter than my tender toes on the sand of an August afternoon!
The problem is not the money, it's that there's now another place I have to keep track of time. Since I don't wear a watch, I'll have to take my cell phone to know if my meter's running out. It feels like such an invasion of my privacy. I just don't want to have to keep track of time everywhere I go.
I don't like to know what time it is down the very minute, the exact purpose of a parking meter. In our home, the hands on clocks throughout the house are at various times. It was once suggested that I live on MST, Marji Standard Time. My own time zone. How cool is that?
I haven't had enough time to figure out a solution but I'm leaning toward putting a stick in the sand and guesstimating when an hour has passed based on my sundial. Or maybe an hour glass.
Regardless of the time piece, this is just another reminder of how the passing of time always has a cost. But do we really have to measure it on parking meters at the beach and pay for it on a credit card as well? Time will tell.
