Since the dawn of time, when Adam landed the Ark atop Mount Ararat, the improvement of Van Ness Avenue has occupied the resources of our city fathers, who are the finest brains ever assembled under one dome.
A friend driving me back from Marin once remarked that it was embarrassing that a world class city would have such lousy roads, almost Third Worldian.
It would, but thanks to the local politicians, we ain't a world class city.
We're kind of Eastern Europe. At best.
Van Ness Avenue will not be finished in your lifetime.
Why don't you visit Detroit instead?
Lovely monuments!
They're digging a fishing hole on Van Ness right now.
If they stock it with trout, we shall feast.
The Van Ness Public Works Song
First stanza:
On Monday morning John gets up, what's he doing today?
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
All the life-long day!
Second stanza:
On Tuesday morning John gets up, what's he doing today?
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
All the life-long day!
Third stanza:
On Wednesday morning John gets up, what's he doing today?
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
All the life-long day!
Fourth stanza:
On Thursday morning John gets up, what's he doing today?
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
All the life-long day!
Fifth stanza:
On Friday morning John gets up, what's he doing today?
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
He's digging a hole and digging a hole,
And filling a hole and filling a hole;
All the life-long day!
Raise your voice cheerily, peasant, and sing!
"We are working to improve your commute"
Yeah, no. My sainted aunt Fanny.
The breath; it is not held.
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