A few solutions

One of the fun things about having a column like this is that I can float ideas for local governments to handle without having to invest my own blood, sweat and tears.

Like these, for instance (saving the best for last):

Idling engines burn nearly as much fossil fuel as engines under load. Make traffic offenses out of such waste (and its attendant pollution,) levying stiff fines for first offenses, surrender of drivers’ licenses on second offense.

Require business owners to provide golf cart parking up close to the entrance of their building. It could be as simple as restriping the asphalt – three carts can easily fit in two car-width spaces.

There’s got to be a way to smooth out cart paths where tree roots push up more bumps within months of new paving. The bouncing and twisting really take the fun out of driving the family golf cart for errands. Any incentive to get people to switch from cars to golf carts should be encouraged.

Redeem the noise abatement wall between residential streets and Ga. Highway 74 South in Peachtree City by decorating it.

I’m sure I’ll think of more.

The first is so obvious. Here we are paying ransom money for gasoline while also trying to reduce greenhouse gases, and people are shopping with their engines running in the parking lot.

Not that I’ve done a survey, but I think men are worse offenders than women in this one. I’ve noticed idling ve-hicles (which is what men like to call their pickup trucks) when I go into a store and the same truck still humming when I return to my golf cart with my groceries.

Sometimes their co-pilot, usually a black Lab, is basking in the cool cab while the boss picks up this week’s rawhide strips (no Milk-Bones for this guy) and beer. The boss rationalizes that he is providing a safe place to leave his dog, as opposed to stashing him in a murderously hot cab or unshaded truck bed. I have to wonder if the truck belongs to the company he works for, hence not his to fill up.

The next two bullets don’t need explanation.

All right, now for my happy suggestion. First of all, like most Peachtree City residents, I was bumfuzzled when The Wall on Hwy. 74 began to grow. Some wag said, “This is what they do in a planned city?” and I was embarrassed. Still, I’m sure if I lived along that busy highway, I’d beg for sound reduction, whatever it took.

Traveling to Virginia earlier this year, we took a side trip that included some road widening and several miles of new sound wall. For most of its length, vines were crawling up the outside of it, and it looked so pretty.

I thought for a long time about how that would play on Peachtree City’s walls. The city has been thinking about it too, I learned with a phone call to City Hall, and considered a series of murals. That plan was apparently rejected because it would become confusing and distracting. I’d hesitate to do anything that would give graffiti artists “permission” to add their own sometimes-vulgar contributions.

Here’s where inspiration flashed. What an opportunity for the Master Gardeners to offer their services. They could research what kinds of vines – and other tough but ornamental shrubs and trees – would thrive on this very sunny exposure, and start to plant.

Residents on the inside should be encouraged to decorate their side of the wall that they have to look at day after day. I can just see a cozy themed patio in their newly private backyards.

That’s when the artistry idea kicked in. By combining plant materials with delicate paintings of vines or other plants on the outside of the wall, you could have a year-round display of leaves and shadows.

(Remember the O. Henry story, The Last Leaf? A dying woman promised herself she’d hold onto life as long as the leaves hung on to the wall outside her window. The last leaf – painted on the wall – never fell, and the woman eventually regained her will to live.)

The details should be easy to work out. The city would purchase the materials and provide water for the planting. The Master Gardeners would offer their labor as one of their community services.

And non-gardeners/artists like me would cheer them on from a safe distance.