Out of the storm

I should start out by saying I love storms.

I could end every day by watching thunderclouds roll across the sky from the comfort and safety of my wrap-around porch.

For aesthetic purposes, I would probably sip a glass of sweet tea and tell my butler he was free to retire to the servant’s quarters for the evening.

But I don’t live in the rural South.

I live in Bloomington, where storms are miserable and do nothing but soak my backpack, my shoes, my hopes and my dreams.

So imagine my astonishment when I learned an Indianapolis woman was arrested Sunday for parking her car on the sidewalk in front of a Kroger.

Because, obviously, she was trying to avoid the torrential downpour that was assaulting the Midwest.

This unnamed woman should not have been arrested.

She should have been awarded the key to the city, given a lifetime supply of free Redbox rentals and recognized as the 21st century hero she clearly is.

We are living timid and trepid lives, people.

We all need to stop hopelessly trudging through the storm, yell “Screw the man.” and park on the sidewalk.

We need to take a page out of this Indianapolis woman’s rulebook because life is just too short to walk from the parking lot anymore.

This woman has given me a second wind as this dreadful semester winds down.
She’s reminded me that no storm should stop me from putting myself first.

So here are the corners I plan to cut from here on out.

First, no more letting people I’ve met multiple times off the hook.

If I’ve been introduced to you numerous times at parties or bars, then you should have had the decency to Facebook stalk me and remember my name.

Second, no more guilt trips from teachers because I obviously didn’t do the reading.

I leave the days behind where I sunk into my chair and avoided eye contact when the class is collectively asked a question.

I will hold my head high, the weight lifted off my unburdened shoulders.

If called upon specifically, I swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth.

“I’m sorry, professor. I watched ‘Downton Abbey’ instead of doing the reading.”

Third, no more lying to sorority sisters at the Sample Gates with buckets for charity.

I do have change, but I’m not giving it to you. Because this city is home to parking Nazis that check meters every 30 seconds, and I need my change to make sure I don’t get a ticket.

Everyone else can keep their Maya Angelous and their Mother Theresas.

I’ve found my bravery in the woman ballsy enough to park on the sidewalk in the storm.

­— wdmcdona@indiana.edu
Follow columnist Dane McDonald on Twitter @W_DaneMcDonald.