The Alleged Review wherein Ross Nervig reviews whatever he feels like reviewing.
The Corner of Shady Oak Rd & Red Circle Drive: B-
The busy intersection is not quite a revelation. Another more sensitive soul could make something poetic out of this. We seem to be in the bottom of an earthen bowl. A stand of trees in full leaf rises unchoked above the traffic.
And it is boring.
The CAT earthmover is a futile animal of a machine. That constant safety beeping. What tone is that? It’s neither urgent nor laconic. Out of context and divorced from a big yellow machine in reverse, what would it instill in the listener? It is the aural equivalent of a hemorrhoid—that is as close a comparison as I can make.
This is not a patio. This a large sidewalk with tables. This is not an iced soy latte, this is a plastic cup of Gotcha. “Life is big,” it says on the side. “Dream accordingly.” This, I think, is somebody’s entire job. These cup-side aphorisms. Somebody schedules meetings around this. Emails are sent back and forth about this. This is back-rubbed out by a good spouse at the end of a hard day. This puts children into braces, through college.
To and fro, people go from one instance of asserting “I exist! I count!” to another, with a bagel break in-between. A contingency of volleyball players in spanks go by (I’d bet all the money in the world, a woman did not name this particular article of clothing). Two hybrid cars nearly fender bendering each other gets the blood pumping. A light breeze tugs gently on the fibers of the clouds above. Between engine noises, the calls of birds.
All considered, it’s pleasant.
But if I see one more pair of capri pants sucked up the ass crack of a middle-aged woman, I’ll personally burn Minnetonka to the ground.
Where This Review Happened