Unkindest Curb Cut

I have been in a bad mood since New Year’s Eve, when my mailbox contained two thin, identical envelopes from the Adjudication Division of the NYC Department of Finance. At first I took the thinness for a sign of innocence: no return envelope, ergo no fine. But I was wrong. The judge in the case of the curb cut (see post of Oct. 20th) found me GUILTY and said that my evidence—a photo of the Ninth Church of Christ, Scientist, the only church so designated in the metropolitan area—was “not probative.” As if I would send in a picture of just any old curb cut and not the one I was parked at when accused of obstructing a driveway.

I had purposely kept my defense succinct in order not to waste anyone’s time, but since that didn’t work I sent an appeal that runs to 736 words, written at white heat, as well as seven pieces of evidence, including a series of digital photographs designed to locate indisputably the Ninth Church of Christ, Scientist. In the course of my research, I discovered that there used to be a fire house at that address, which accounts for the curb cut. Unfortunately, I had to enclose payment ($190) with my appeal (grrrrr).

As if that were not enough, in mid-December I received another communication from the Department of Finance, saying I hadn’t paid yet another ticket, one that I’d never received. I went online and found a copy: it was for allegedly violating a “No Standing—Commercial Vehicles Only” sign on November 15th, at exactly the time that I was bragging about the spot I found on K Street where, if I wished, I could stay until Martin Luther King Day (which is upon as at last). The ticket was written completely in error by a blockhead who conflated the street number with an avenue address, and didn’t see which way the arrow points on the “No Standing” sign. I confined my defense to a single scathing typewritten page, and included four photographs to document the exact location of the sign with reference to local landmarks (I couldn’t take a picture of the address on the ticket, because it doesn’t exist) and printouts of relevant passages from two blog posts. All this took hours, and it still makes me mad just to think about it.

The only good thing to come out of it is the above photo of the Birdman of K Street, taken, totally by accident, I have to admit, while trying to document the legality of my beloved parking spot.

Meanwhile, alternate-side parking has been suspended for weeks, to facilitate snow removal and garbage pickup, and there has been delicious coverage in the Times, including this great story on how car-owners in the neighborhood of Boston known as Southie reserve dug-out parking spaces by placing things like lawn chairs in them, and then doing violence to any car that dares to park there. (I hope it doesn’t come to that in New York. They play mean in Southie.) There was also this piece, about the longest-ever period that alternate-side has been suspended in New York: 56 days in the winter of 1978, the year after I moved here and junked my ’65 Plymouth Fury II.

Guilty

The return address on the envelope was NYC Finance, Adjudication Division.

The document was headed: Decision and Order.

Under “Notice of Violation Decision Summary,” it said, “Disposition: GUILTY.”

It elaborated: “Respondent claims that the summons incorrectly describes the sign posted at the cited location. Pursuant to Traffic Rule 4-08(a)(1)(i), ‘one authorized regulatory sign anywhere on a block, which is the area of sidewalk between one intersection and the next, shall be sufficient notice of the restriction(s) in effect on that block.’ Respondent’s claim is not supported by persuasive evidence about the signs at the place of occurrence. Neither of the photos showed any name(s) of street and building numbers. Respondent did not show, with substantial, detailed persuasive evidence that no part of the vehicle was within the No Standing Zone.”

One should not read things like this before breakfast.

I have to admit that I knew if I had walked down the block I could have figured out which side of the street the “No Standing Anytime” sign referred to (see "Not Guilty," September 2, 2010). But you know what? It’s all too annoying to go on about. They got me. I’ll pay. And I’ll never park in that spot again.

At the bottom of the document is this instruction: “Retain this record of your hearing for 8 years and 3 months.” What? That brings us to January 26, 2019, before the matter is officially closed! That’ll teach me to try to fight City Hall.

The Defense Rests

The New York City Department of Finance leaves only four short lines on a parking ticket to describe your defense if it doesn't fit into one of their categories. So I edited down my screed to this: "There is no driveway at [address on ticket]. There is a curb cut in front of a Christian Science Reading Room with no vehicular egress. See enclosed photo." I think the photo came out pretty well. It even shows a car parked where I was when I got the ticket (except that it is farther from the fire hydrant, the long shadow of which can be seen at lower right). I'm also rather fond of "vehicular egress." I don't know where that came from.

Perhaps, to sweeten the package, I should have enclosed a picture I took in Rockaway of my passionflower vine, which finally bloomed.

Disaster Strikes

Thursday morning when I got to my car I found it festooned with parking tickets: four fat orange envelopes, two stuck under the windshield wiper and two wedged into the sideview mirror. Arg. When I drove in from Rockaway last Saturday for Dee’s show, I was determined to get a Monday-Thursday spot so that I could celebrate Columbus Day (observed on Monday, October 11th), and I settled for the first spot I saw—actually, I went around the block once, hoping for something better, because I knew it looked a little close to the fire hydrant, but I paced off the distance—about ten feet—and decided to take a chance. I respect the need to keep clear of fire hydrants, but sometimes it looks to me like people overdo it, leaving great swathes of space on either side.

There is something printed at the top of parking tickets that I’d never noticed before: “Write only one violation per ticket.” Two of the tickets were issued by an Officer Winn at 2:16 A.M. on 10/11/10. (Note that I had been there for more than twenty-four hours before my alleged infraction drew any notice, so it can’t have been that egregious. Also note the hour that Officer Winn was skulking around my car.) One ticket is for the fire hydrant (he judged that I was only seven feet from it). The other is for a violation of Code 98, Subsection F2: Obstructing Driveway. Now, there is a curb cut at the address recorded on the ticket, and I was parked at the curb cut, but I’ve been down this street before, and that curb cut is a vestige of a former time, when the building it is in front of was a garage, or even a stable. What is there now is a Christian Science Reading Room, and the place where the cars (or horses) passed through is now a plate-glass window that serves as a showcase for religious tomes. There would be no reason for a car to pull in there, or a horse, unless it was a Christian Scientist.

The second set of tickets are the same as the first, except that they were issued approximately twenty-four hours later, by an Officer Santiago, on 10/12/10 at 12:15 A.M. (the hydrant) and 12:17 A.M. (obstructing driveway).

Whenever you contest a ticket, the Department of Finance offers you a discount if you’ll shut up and go away. (Recently, I received the expected offer to reduce the fine for my “No Standing” offense from $115 to $90, but it doesn’t seem like a big enough discount. Besides, I am sincere in my defense, and it’s worth $25 to me to see if it holds up.) I could contest the two tickets for parking too close to a hydrant ($115 x 2), but I just looked up the rule and it turns out that the prescribed distance is fifteen feet, not ten. So I'm screwed.

But blocking an obsolete curb cut? Google maps has a good shot of the Christian Science Reading Room. (Here’s the link; I realize that by publishing it I risk having someone take my spot, but this one doesn’t seem to have been very lucky for me, does it?) The street view on Google even shows a car parked right where I was parked. If the “Obstructing Driveway” offenses ($90 x 2) are dismissed, I can maintain the delusion that I've saved $190.

I found a spot on the same block on Thursday, far from any fire hydrants or curb cuts. When I walked up the block after sitting in the car for an hour and a half, fuming, I noticed that no one had dared to park in front of the Christian Science Reading Room.

Omelette

The discount available to anyone who contests a parking ticket made the front page of today's Times: "Parking Fine Too Big? Well, Just Say So." But my favorite story today was the tiny item about the truck driver carrying eggs who fell asleep on I-94 in Ypsilanti, Michigan. According to Trooper Jim Smiley, "His rig hit a guardrail and a bridge support beam that tore the trailer open and spilled hundreds of cartons of eggs along a 300-foot stretch." The broken eggs froze on the road and had to be scraped up with front-end loaders and carted away in dump trucks. The driver is O.K., though he got a ticket, and he probably should have been carrying gallons of coffee to go with his eggs.

I am busy filling orders for the deluxe version of the Alternate Side Parking Calendar 2009, featuring a self-portrait taken in the ladies' room of the Brooklyn College Library. Meanwhile, I received my first alert from the Parking Bot at IsAlternateSideParkingInEffect.com, a new site that provides a whole slew of information from the DOT and whose mission is to keep parkers updated in real time—in the event of a snowstorm, say—and send updates via e-mail and Twitter. Very high tech. Makes me wonder what I'm doing with this X-Acto knife and rubber cement.

Speaking of calendars, mark yours for Friday, January 16th, when the fabulous Baby Dee will play the Cleveland Museum of Art. Dee's album "Safe Inside the Day" was No. 1 on the Plain Dealer music critic John Soeder's Top Ten list for 2008. Dee's appearance, with Daniel Isengart, at the Cabaret Artistique, from 8 P.M. to midnight, is in conjunction with an exhibit called "Artistic Luxury: Fabergé, Tiffany, Lalique." Ah, what could be more luxurious that Cleveland in January?