June 3, 2010--The De-Merritt Parkway

This is my third or fourth anecdotal report from the road about how the nearly $1.0 trillion dollar federal stimulus program is faring. At least in regard to highway projects along the routes we have been plying from New York to Florida and just yesterday New York to Mid-Coast Maine.

Rather than race up one of the newer interstates that cuts diagonally across Connecticut, I-84 for example, we decided to take things more leisurely and drift up the scenic Merritt Parkway. Opened in 1938, the Merritt is a limited-access road that traverses affluent Fairfield County. It is famous for its scenic layout, its uniquely styled signage, and the architecturally elaborate overpasses along the route--no two are the same. And it is so noteworthy that it is designated a National Scenic Byway and is also listed in the National Register of Historic Places.

Not a bad choice of roads to begin our summer in beautiful settings.

But before we reached even Greenwich, those familiar orange highway cones appeared and directed us into one lane and a long snaking column of traffic.

"Ugh," I said. "I told you we should have taken I-84. This will turn our six hour trip into a nightmare."

"Relax," Rona said. "Let's see what happens. And for record, you were the one to choose this route."

Of course, she was right. From childhood on the Merritt Parkway has been one of my favorite roads and taking it seemed like a nice nostalgic idea.

"And look," she said, pointing to a sign announcing the up-coming roadwork, "Another one of your favorite things."

"What? What are you referring to?" I had to keep my eye on the road since traffic was stop and go and the lane we were now confined to was very narrow.

"Your stimulus money at work. Just up ahead. That's what the sigh we passed said. While you creep along you can count how many men are working and report about it tomorrow in your blog. No?"

"Well, yes I could do that. Help me out, will you, on a twisty road like this I don't want to do too much looking around."

Just as I was saying that another sign came into view. This one I was able to read. It said something like:

This Highway Project Is Being Financed by the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009

"The 'Recovery and Reinvestment Act'? I thought it was the Stimulus Act. You know," I said, "to stimulate the creation of jobs."

"Yes, but there's also a lot of money tucked in it to invest in education reform, clean energy, and things of that sort. Obama and the Democrats put hundreds of billions into the bill for that and other things that they realized they would never get Republicans to support. But enough about the politics, let's start counting how many are being put to work as part of the recovery effort.

Not too many we quickly noticed. Yes, there was lots of equipment scattered along both sides of the parkway but only a few highway workers were visible. It was about 10;30 in the morning and not yet lunch time. So that wouldn't explain why there were so few to be seen.

Rona said, "At least it's good to see so much heavy equipment. I noticed that most of it was manufactured by Caterpillar. In America, I presume." I nodded.

"But wait. Don't look. Keep your eyes on the road. But on the other side there are about half a dozen men working." She was clearly excited.

"Doing what?" I asked, keeping my eyes riveted to the car just ahead which was bumping along in fit and starts.

"I can't see yet. But there's a backhoe in operation. But it's not a Caterpillar. It's a . . . I can't quite make it out. Oh, I see now, it's a, what, Wuhan? What's a Wuhan?"

"I think they're made in China," I said with a sigh. "I believe they're supposed to be the best backhoes in the world." I shrugged my shoulders in resignation. "What are you going to do? At least there appear to be some men working. Let's hope they're Americans."

"That's pretty nasty," Rona shot back. The traffic and lack of evidence about major construction was making us both testy.

"What are they doing? The men. I mean. Can you see?" We were creeping closer to where the work was underway.

"Can you believe it," Rona spat. "I think they're working on a highway beautification project. One of those kinds of things Lady Bird Johnson used to advocate. Remember her?"

I nodded and took a quick glance across the road. And Rona was right--they were planting bushes. "This is real work," I said, trying to rationalize, "the Merritt Parkway is a National Scenic Byway, isn't it?"

Ignoring me, Rona said, "They're laying off teachers in Connecticut and they're planting fucking rhododendrons?" She glared at me as if it was my fault.

"What do you want from me? You're right. I agree with you. But what can we do?"

"Maybe join the Tea Party," she shot back.