Juxtaposition. Or, why the world is so confused

The south end of Oklahoma City features one of my favorite streets in the connected 48. This particular area is called Capitol Hill. Apparently it used to be the state capitol back in the day when Roy Rogers was all the rage. Although I do love me some cowboy, this is not the reason for my afan. Capitol Hill holds a lot of memories for me that bring me back to my eager-beaver missionary days. Walking up and down the street accosting strangers to give them pass along cards, picking up pass along cards that people threw in the bushes, volunteering at the ginormous Christmas charity store, Chelino’s pan dulce and snack shelves, the excellent taco place on the corner, and Moses. Good ole Moses, the homeless Native American who chased my companion and me down the street with a ridiculously large stick… that’s right: Moses, big stick… you do the math. My favorite part about the street however was the hole in the wall bar. Day to night this smoke-infested love barn was filled with drinkers (read: alcoholics). What’s more? Right next door to the bar is the local chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous.

Really? We’re going to put the AA next to the bar? Isn’t that a bit like putting the child molester in juvie? Or making Martha Stewart relocate to Taiwan? Turns out this is the case all over OKC. Bar-AA-Bar-AA-Bar-AA. Are they in cahoots? Is this like the Lowe’s/Wal Mart partnership? The AA is either snagging them before they get to the bar, or upping their meeting numbers by dragging every drunken arse to the circle of trust after a few shots. Either way, we’re not exactly making life easy.

Yesterday I was at the gym and realized this kind of rationale is everywhere, not just the windy streets of Oklahoma. The Gold’s Gym in Sandy towers into the sky, a multi-leveled representation of blood, sweat, tears, and strength- all in the name of good health. However, once you step a tennis-shoed foot outside those shiny front doors it’s like you are in fast food Sodom and Gomorrah: Wendy’s, KFC, Taco Bell, and the real kicker… Blimpie’s. We all know that no one really eats at Blimpie’s, but just the sheer title of this chain makes us feel so gluttonous that we have to grace our local drive thru............................................................................

Dear city planners: WTF? A girl can’t lose the relief society arm when her bicep curls are chased by a frosty. Please help.