A Modest Proposal for the Prevention of Corporate Panhandling in Downtown Vernon
It has recently come to my attention, as it surely has to the nearly 60, 000 residents of Greater Vernon, that corporate panhandling is becoming a conspicuous problem in the downtown area. Whether it's a dancing investment broker mascot or a sign-twirling pizza man, it is undeniable that something has to be done. Despite local efforts--ranging from an occasional police shooing to communal ignorance and contempt--the issue remains unchecked. This has the municipality and community workers desperate for solutions.
I paid a visit to Vernon's core to get a sense of the public's opinion regarding the matter.
"They're disgusting," says Deborah Butler regarding the maple-leaf-shaped mascot dancing beside the courthouse. Deborah is a proud local, born and raised in the city. Her solution? "Round 'em all up and throw 'em in jail." As it turns out, the city of Vernon has considered this a viable option for years. However, there exist concerns regarding the outrageous cost of keeping even one individual imprisoned for any length of time. On this Deborah argues, "Well, we had enough money for that god-forsaken rainbow crosswalk. Where's the money for prisons?"
Another Vernon resident, who wishes not to be named, argues that a possible solution would be to just make panhandling illegal. "They're not going to do it if it's illegal," he posits. "And then at least we have an excuse to arrest them." This is a fascinating idea. Perhaps Deborah's idea to imprison all the panhandlers could be complemented with new legislation granting arrests.
Then I ran into Brian Lawson, a 24-year-old sociology major from UBCO, who had an ambitious plan that would help both the citizens of Vernon and the corporate panhandlers.
"The ideal solution is going to be a win-win," says Lawson. "Ultimately, what we want to avoid are those repugnant, seconds-long interactions that our lawful citizens are being forced to endure daily when confronted by corporate panhandlers. But we also must be sensitive to the concerns of the businesses who have hired these people to, quite frankly, prostitute themselves to attract customers."
Lawson argues that the most sensible solution is to install repurposed parking meters at locations where corporate panhandlers frequently do their business.
"So basically, instead of having a mascot or sign-twirler harass pedestrians, we can have a lovely, inoffensive meter into which people can donate money directly to businesses. And in combination with new legislature, I believe we can eliminate both the act of corporate panhandling and even the need to panhandle in the first place.
"What we must not convey through our actions, however, is an attitude of disrespect. Overall, these meters are going to increase panhandler income. I mean, putting loose change into meters is basically second nature at this point, right? Also, we want to get local artists to paint flowers on them and stuff so that people don't mistake them for regular parking meters, which they would never dream of putting money in."
I asked Lawson whether or not there would be bill acceptors so that people could donate more than just the change they have forgotten about in their pockets.
"No," says Lawson. "Do you think people would actually put more than two dollars at a time into the meter? I didn't think of that." But in the time I spent with Lawson, he came up with a solution to even this problem. "I guess you could, like, fold up a five dollar bill and force it through the slot." Genius.
I took Lawson's university-inspired idea back to the public to gauge their reaction. Siobhan Meyers was the first person I met who had anything negative to say about the plan.
"I just think it's a little short-sighted," says Meyers, an obvious socialist. "I mean, when you see the mascot waving the sign, it makes you go 'Hey, I could go for
some pizza today'. But if I were to see a brightly painted parking meter, there would be a zero percent chance that I would put my money in it."
If you ask me, it's people like Meyers who are part of the problem. More and more our beautiful city is losing its sense of generosity, its will to do something for the common man. I asked Meyers what made her so cold hearted, so cheap.
"Cheap? I'm cheap because I don't want to throw my money into some dodgy parking meter that is collected by the city? When I want to help out a business, I'll buy their product. I don't even mind the dancing maple leaf, to be honest."
She had a lot more to say, but I won't bore you with the details. The snowflake was digging herself into a hole anyway. It's obvious that the parking meter idea is flawless.
There is no word from local panhandlers whether or not they agree with the proposed plan. This is chiefly due to the fact that corporate panhandlers are creepy and weird. Nobody cares what they have to say anyway.
DJG.
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| Disgusting |
I paid a visit to Vernon's core to get a sense of the public's opinion regarding the matter.
"They're disgusting," says Deborah Butler regarding the maple-leaf-shaped mascot dancing beside the courthouse. Deborah is a proud local, born and raised in the city. Her solution? "Round 'em all up and throw 'em in jail." As it turns out, the city of Vernon has considered this a viable option for years. However, there exist concerns regarding the outrageous cost of keeping even one individual imprisoned for any length of time. On this Deborah argues, "Well, we had enough money for that god-forsaken rainbow crosswalk. Where's the money for prisons?"
Another Vernon resident, who wishes not to be named, argues that a possible solution would be to just make panhandling illegal. "They're not going to do it if it's illegal," he posits. "And then at least we have an excuse to arrest them." This is a fascinating idea. Perhaps Deborah's idea to imprison all the panhandlers could be complemented with new legislation granting arrests.
Then I ran into Brian Lawson, a 24-year-old sociology major from UBCO, who had an ambitious plan that would help both the citizens of Vernon and the corporate panhandlers.
"The ideal solution is going to be a win-win," says Lawson. "Ultimately, what we want to avoid are those repugnant, seconds-long interactions that our lawful citizens are being forced to endure daily when confronted by corporate panhandlers. But we also must be sensitive to the concerns of the businesses who have hired these people to, quite frankly, prostitute themselves to attract customers."
Lawson argues that the most sensible solution is to install repurposed parking meters at locations where corporate panhandlers frequently do their business.
"So basically, instead of having a mascot or sign-twirler harass pedestrians, we can have a lovely, inoffensive meter into which people can donate money directly to businesses. And in combination with new legislature, I believe we can eliminate both the act of corporate panhandling and even the need to panhandle in the first place.
"What we must not convey through our actions, however, is an attitude of disrespect. Overall, these meters are going to increase panhandler income. I mean, putting loose change into meters is basically second nature at this point, right? Also, we want to get local artists to paint flowers on them and stuff so that people don't mistake them for regular parking meters, which they would never dream of putting money in."
I asked Lawson whether or not there would be bill acceptors so that people could donate more than just the change they have forgotten about in their pockets.
"No," says Lawson. "Do you think people would actually put more than two dollars at a time into the meter? I didn't think of that." But in the time I spent with Lawson, he came up with a solution to even this problem. "I guess you could, like, fold up a five dollar bill and force it through the slot." Genius.
I took Lawson's university-inspired idea back to the public to gauge their reaction. Siobhan Meyers was the first person I met who had anything negative to say about the plan.
"I just think it's a little short-sighted," says Meyers, an obvious socialist. "I mean, when you see the mascot waving the sign, it makes you go 'Hey, I could go for
some pizza today'. But if I were to see a brightly painted parking meter, there would be a zero percent chance that I would put my money in it."
If you ask me, it's people like Meyers who are part of the problem. More and more our beautiful city is losing its sense of generosity, its will to do something for the common man. I asked Meyers what made her so cold hearted, so cheap.
"Cheap? I'm cheap because I don't want to throw my money into some dodgy parking meter that is collected by the city? When I want to help out a business, I'll buy their product. I don't even mind the dancing maple leaf, to be honest."
She had a lot more to say, but I won't bore you with the details. The snowflake was digging herself into a hole anyway. It's obvious that the parking meter idea is flawless.
There is no word from local panhandlers whether or not they agree with the proposed plan. This is chiefly due to the fact that corporate panhandlers are creepy and weird. Nobody cares what they have to say anyway.
DJG.
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