By Isa Jones
By Mary Willson
By Brian Turk
By Drew AIles
By Taylor Boylston
By Bree Davies
By Emerald O'Brien
A few weeks ago, I left the Blue Mule at closing, only to find yet another ticket on my car: Apparently the Keystone Kops couldn't wait a second after last call to enforce that insane no-parking-between-2-a.m.-and-6-a.m. rule. Which means that if you come downtown, you have only four hours in which you can escape the heavy hand of The Man. What a bunch of horseshit: a $20 fine for staying until the club closed and then being fourteen minutes late to my car.
Since one of Hickenrocker's primary platforms was parking (remember the commercials with him walking around with all those quarters?), I asked him what was up with the bureaucratic clock-watchers.
"No creative person should ever get a parking ticket," he responded.
Ah, he had to be freaking kidding me!
And he was. "Supposedly, we clean the streets every night," he explained, promising to look into the situation. "But I live downtown, and I've checked -- and we don't clean the streets every night."
Finally, a politician who talks the rock and rocks the talk. Maybe he should run for president -- or at least take guitar lessons.