RANGER SKEETER
I take care of a little park down here on the South End. Ranger Skeeter. It’s actually a county park but the county only has one real park ‘ranger’ to take care of all its parks so if we want it maintained, we have to do it ourselves. It’s got no toilet so you can guess what we find in the woods. It’s got no garbage can so you can imagine what’s in the parking lot. Believe me, being the cleanup guy will make a person darkly cynical about human nature.
For awhile I would get cases of empty beer bottles, Rolling Rock empties to be exact. We got a transfer dump station that takes them for free that all us South Enders have to drive by on any trip to the closest real grocery store, but no, our boy dropped them for over a year at the park. Go figure. When folks steal clothes from the Donation Bin at Tyee Store, they often times take them to the park, sort out what they want, then scatter the rest. Lately, I’ve got the latex remains of my own Lover’s Lane showing up. Kind of puts a chill on the rural ambiance. Probably syringes next…..
The other day a kid had dug a pit back in the woods, filled it with sharp stakes pointing up and covered it over with leaves and twigs, a nice little booby trap. I guess he thought this was Viet Nam and the war wasn’t quite over yet. Or else he was waging his very own small but personal war on what little tourism the park pulls in. I suppose I should start watching for IED’s out by the daffodil beds.
My pals think I’m a mental defective for mowing this patch of park, clearing fallen trees, re-routing trails, planting flowers and shrubs, putting up sculptures for the vandals to steal and hanging birdhouses, all for the few folks that wander down this way and stumble into the park. Hardly anybody uses it. Except folks I wish didn’t. I tell my cronies it’s the only park on the South End, that’s why. But there are days when I agree with em…..
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