After months of hype and hundreds of column inches of high-minded rhetoric, the Gazette’s ‘Dream City’ project culminated with a much-touted meeting at Coronado High School.
Three hundred people showed up – an impressive turnout for an earnest few hours of community-minded heavy liftin’, especially on a radiant Saturday morning.
I didn’t go – too busy riding my bike, caring for my ancient dog, weeding the garden and riding up to Cripple Creek in our snazzy li’l black roadster.
The bike ride was absurdly perfect. The roads to and around the Garden of the Gods were uncrowded, passing motorists were courteous, and the Garden was, as always, transcendently beautiful.
The dog was happy and the drive to the Creek, top down in the mountain cool, couldn’t have been better-and we even won a few bucks at our favorite casino.
So let’s see – I ditched Dream City because I feel like I live in dream city.
Maybe I’m just a small-town simpleton, but the city seems pretty close to perfect just the way it is.
Most of the people I know, regardless of political affiliation, feel the same way. They complain about the politics of the daily, or about the mayor’s apparent venality or about the incompetence of local governments – but they stay put.
A friend who lives in Kentucky and does business in Colorado Springs put it this way.
“Everyone I talk to in Colorado Springs says it’s a great place, and they never want to leave. Actually, we’re trying to figure out how to move there ourselves…”
I admire the folks who have worked so hard on Dream City and upon similar, parallel efforts. They usually preface any discussion by saying “This is a great place, but we can make it even better.”
Can we? Maybe we’ll just screw it up. Would you say of the Mona Lisa “Great painting! But a little touching up would make it even better.”
As the great conservative Edmund Burke once said, “If it is not necessary to change, then it is necessary not to change.”
Perfection, or even near perfection, can’t be improved on.
Although maybe we could paint the Garden of the Gods a fetching shade of pink-those salmon-colored rocks are so 19th century!