Miss Media Nation and I visited Harvard Square yesterday. I dropped her off at a bookstore, then went look for a handicapped parking space. I found one not far from Brattle Square.
As I was backing in, it occurred to me that I might be causing myself some hassle. Our handicapped placard obviously wasn’t for me. My daughter was a couple of blocks away. If a police officer questioned me, I’d have to ask him to walk back to the bookstore with me so he could see that my daughter was, in fact, there.
I did it anyway — no problems. But it would have been a whole lot easier if I were one of the chosen few who use the handicapped parking spaces in front of Boston police headquarters, wouldn’t it? Another great job by students in Walter Robinson’s investigative-reporting class at Northeastern University.