For His Eye is on the Sparrow

I was coming home from Germantown the other day and I saw an abandoned car. It was a rusty brown Buick LeSabre with the hood propped and three blocks for every one wheel, which is not the ratio recommended by Buick. It’s not unusual to see a cannibalized car in Germantown but this particular car has been lodged in my head. Partly because it had been abandoned in an intersection on the main road leading to RT 1, the primary way of getting the fuck out of Germantown. All I wanted to do was leave Germantown. I didn’t want to deal with the traffic snarls that immobile Buick can make if put in just the right place. But more importantly I didn’t want to think about the implications of a car with mostly no wheels and probably no battery in a busy intersection. Who wants to be confronted with evidence that the world is filled with the kind of assholes who would put a car in a really inconvenient place and then remove all possibility of it being moved without the aid of some sort of super badass tow truck. Then I saw it, the blue and white calling card of our fair city’s most dedicated service. Yes, an intrepid member of our beloved parking authority had with unwavering devotion to his mission written a parking ticket for a car that will never move again. That ticket is a metaphysical earthquake; follow this sequence of events:

1) Oh no, your car has been stolen.

2) It is left abandoned and abused in an intersection. Does god not exist, or does he just not care?

3) Your abandoned and abused car got a parking ticket. The car is going straight to a junkyard so you won’t find out about your ticket until the PPA tacks on a few late fees. The divine demonstrates itself in events big and small. This ticket is as much evidence of god’s existence as is the whole scope of the cosmos. It’s reassuring to know that there is a master maker, an all powerful being that is guiding his creation; too bad he hates you.