Today was warm and sunny, without much humidity. So, of course, I rode--Arielle, my Mercian Audax, to be exact.
We took another spin to Connecticut. I spent some more time on back roads that wind through farms where horses are stabled and, I assume, taxes are sheletered.
That last assumption comes from something someone pointed out while I was riding through Vermont years ago. On a road near Killington, I passed three organic herb farms within a stretch of about three kilometers. I wondered, aloud, what it was like to farm in such a place. After all, late in the previous afternoon, the temperature dropped from 52 F to 15F (from +11 to -9 C) and rain turned to sleet and snow from skies that, that morning, had nary a cloud.
The local who accompanied me on that ride said that those farms "most likely" belonged to "rich people from Boston or New York" who, he said, "probably lost money but wrote it off." But they "didn't care," he explained: "It's a hobby, a tax shelter, for them."
Now, one would think that anyone who could think of how to such a thing is pretty smart, and possibly has some education. And, perhaps not surprisingly, Connecticut perennially ranks among the top five US states in the percentage of its population who hold college degrees. By that metric, Greenwich is one of the most educated municipalities in the Nutmeg State.
As someone who's taught in colleges, I've spent lots of time with educated people--or, at least, people who've spent lots of time in school. Let me tell you, they are not immune to saying things that make you wonder just how educated they are. I'll confess: I make such blunders, too. But I make sure that nobody notices them! ;-)
At least, I've always been careful to make sure that my mistakes won't be seen by some smart-ass cyclist:
A "dismissal entrance"? One has to wonder what is being taught in a school where tuition is $66,060 for the Upper and Lower Schools (and a mere $45,000 for the Foundations program).
After passing that sign, I continued along Glenville Road, which leads to the Empire State. Someone at Eagle Hill, I am sure, was quoting Groucho Marx: "There's the road out of town. It's the one I wish you were on."
We took another spin to Connecticut. I spent some more time on back roads that wind through farms where horses are stabled and, I assume, taxes are sheletered.
That last assumption comes from something someone pointed out while I was riding through Vermont years ago. On a road near Killington, I passed three organic herb farms within a stretch of about three kilometers. I wondered, aloud, what it was like to farm in such a place. After all, late in the previous afternoon, the temperature dropped from 52 F to 15F (from +11 to -9 C) and rain turned to sleet and snow from skies that, that morning, had nary a cloud.
The local who accompanied me on that ride said that those farms "most likely" belonged to "rich people from Boston or New York" who, he said, "probably lost money but wrote it off." But they "didn't care," he explained: "It's a hobby, a tax shelter, for them."
Now, one would think that anyone who could think of how to such a thing is pretty smart, and possibly has some education. And, perhaps not surprisingly, Connecticut perennially ranks among the top five US states in the percentage of its population who hold college degrees. By that metric, Greenwich is one of the most educated municipalities in the Nutmeg State.
As someone who's taught in colleges, I've spent lots of time with educated people--or, at least, people who've spent lots of time in school. Let me tell you, they are not immune to saying things that make you wonder just how educated they are. I'll confess: I make such blunders, too. But I make sure that nobody notices them! ;-)
At least, I've always been careful to make sure that my mistakes won't be seen by some smart-ass cyclist:
A "dismissal entrance"? One has to wonder what is being taught in a school where tuition is $66,060 for the Upper and Lower Schools (and a mere $45,000 for the Foundations program).
After passing that sign, I continued along Glenville Road, which leads to the Empire State. Someone at Eagle Hill, I am sure, was quoting Groucho Marx: "There's the road out of town. It's the one I wish you were on."
hmm... Alright, I'll take the bait.
ReplyDeleteI have been contemplating this sign for a couple of days. My conclusions: The word "Entrance" is used in some strange generic sense that means both "entrance" and "exit". This is the place where students exit after being dismissed for the day, riding in cars driven by their parents/chauffeurs/slaves. The traffic is so heavey they have to direct it as to where to enter and exit.
The lower sign's "Dismissal Driveway" seems to confirm this interpretation.
BUT, the lower sign's "Police Take Notice" is truly an enigma. Does it mean a) "Take notice: police are lurking hereabouts." or b) "The police normally take notice of what goes on in this driveway." c) "The police are hereby ordered to take notice!"
Yes, the number of hours spent in classes is no indication of being educated, much less cultured. This language is an example: it is barbaric in it's seemingly willful obscurity.
Leo
Leo--I thought the "Police Take Notice" sign was creepy. I wonder whether the folks who commissioned it had any clue as to how it sounds.
ReplyDeleteYou might be right about the way "entrance" is used. I have heard it used, though not often, in that sense. It almost seems archaic, or at least obscure.