I already know why. As long as every citizen in Baltimore has to stew under these 80,000 ghastly, wasteful, and blaring Cobrahead streetlights, the upcoming generation will be as severed from any awareness of a starry night, just as their parents were. If our children are banned from watching the stars unless they have a means of travelling at least two counties away, where will be the inspiration for any next generation of astromomers and cosmotologists?
So far, it appears that our city council chooses to ignore my $400-a-year gift horse that’s sitting right in the middle of the chamber while they bemoan this avoidable budget shortfall. I cannot get any response from various neighborhood groups, though I still search.
Would the dedicated astronomers like to see my LED streetlight? Would they like to hear how this light could bring back the universe for everyone, instead of making astronomy a closed-off specialty for a privileged few? Would they like to hear it’s other health benefits?
Incidentally, this would also save the city $24 million dollars a year in operating costs for the next 14 years.
Please contact me at email@example.com so that all our future astromers can go swimming under the stars.
Charm City Starry Night Project Baltimore
P.S. I don’t get a penny from the company I bought my light from. I do not work for this company. I just believe that this model will stretch the longest impact for the shortest budget.
Metal MoversLoved your article on Hustlin’ (“Every day I’m Hustlin’,” Mail, June 20). I am in the automobile business. I have to hustle every day to make a living. Earl Shipley and I are both moving metal. Tell him to start checking body shops after a good snow or rain. Peace, my brother.
Mark L. Kelley
No Pizza For You, Mr. WrongI hope this is a trick or a publicity stunt. Mr. Wrong’s column in the 20 June edition (“Bitter Pizza to Swallow,” Mr. Wrong, June 20), that is. I thought it might be meant as a joke, but jokes are most often at least mildly funny, so unless petulant whining akin to that of a toddler with a soggy diaper who missed his nap time are a new comedy genre, I don’t think that’s it.
Here we have a business taking the bold but risky step of relocating to further pursue their vision and what does this fellow spend half a page doing? He moans about how it affects *him*, and suggests (wait for it) a BOYCOTT! “And yeah, I don’t think you should go there anymore either, Gentle Reader...I think you should also be angry and bitter at the Iggies.”
Really, City Paper? In times like these, with a rough economy, in a business that is as tough even in the best of times as the restaurant industry is, you think it’s the height of hilarity to call for consumers to no longer do business with a pizza place as the punch line to a pathetic attempt at humor?
I wonder if this “humorist” would have the nerve to go in to Iggie’s and say the same things to the faces of the owners that he so willingly got published. If Mr. Macleod does love pizza as much as he claims, perhaps never tasting another Iggie’s pizza would be an appropriate punishment.
But I don’t entirely blame him. He seems to not have the maturity to even recognize how amazingly inappropriate this column was. But you dear editor, are supposed to be the voice of reason and judgment, the guardian of the public interest. You failed. This is people’s livelihood that you are attempting to play for cheap laughs. It’s “editorial discretion” like this that makes people question the relevance of both the press and the First Amendment these days.