Thursday, September 26, 2013

PooPooville and the Speed Trap

I live on the outskirts of Baton Rouge, so I have to drive a bit to get to the grocery store, or anywhere for that matter.  Baton Rouge, as I've said, is growing by leaps and bounds.  The traffic in the city is pretty horrendous during rush hours, and it's not all that much better any other time except Sunday morning, when everyone seems to be in church.  I spend quite a bit of time in my car taking in the sights while dodging the horrible drivers who have all moved to Baton Rouge.  On my way into town there is a fancy schmanzy subdivision where the speed limit drops to 30.  This is the only stretch of Baton Rouge on which I've ever seen a cop.  I guess it pays to have a big house with palm trees. 

The housing developers are straining to keep up with the demand for housing, and what was a soybean field yesterday is going to be the next subdivision tomorrow.  On this speed trap stretch, there is one such subdivision being engineered right now, close to the Albertson's where I do some shopping.  It's a large tract of land, and when I drive by it, it smells like crap.  My husband and I take turn naming this subdivision; PooPooville, Stinky Acres, Odoramaland, Gatorfartown, Pugh Palisades, Scratch, Sniff and Scream .... you get the idea. 

So I continue to think that the environmental issues here in Louisiana are a can of worms waiting for me to open them.  There's no reason soil that's been turned over should have the offensive stink it has in PooPooville unless someone was either dumping solid waste there, or spraying gray water.  I'm anxious to get to the Unitarian Church this Sunday and see what kind of environmental issues they're involved in.  I certainly hope someone's involved in environmental causes here.  I almost dread delving into this.

The bit of research I did so far has indicated that dumping treated sewage into a swamp and trying to sell the idea its healthy for the swamp is pretty much as bogus as building a subdivision on a mountain of $hit and calling it Sweet Blossom.

But I still like living here, I've just carefully avoided scratching the surface. 

I wonder what kind of death fills the rail cars that go by a couple of times a day from the chemical plants to the south.  A whole other mailbag of concern.

No place ideal.  All of this stuff is still 100% an improvement over living in Wisconsin with Scott Walker as governor.  That's a heaping pile of maniacal fan splitting $hit if there ever was one.  Of course, Jindal could well be his twin brother, so I look on the bright shortage of things to rant about here.

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