Caution: One lane

All the usual back-to-school signs are sprouting up all around town.

Street construction around the university is in full swing, reducing traffic to one lane or prohibiting convenient access.

Street repairs have signaled the start of school for several years, cutting off the university just as students arrive for the fall semester.

I used to be perplexed at what appeared to be poor planning. Now I know there is a good reason for all the detours and one-lane-ahead signs. It's a test.

First, the street work tests the ability and endurance of year-round residents who go to their places of employment and shop in our fine stores. Getting from here to there can be quite a challenge. If you make it to work on time or manage to spend a few dollars (plus 7.975 percent sales tax), you are officially recognized as a True Blue Citizen of Cape Girardeau (With Silver Garlands).

Meanwhile, prospective students and their unsuspecting parents are tested as well.

Sure, students have to take a bunch of quizzes to gain admission to our university. But no written test can determine the true mettle of a young man or woman. Someone who can ace a multiple-choice exam might not be able to get from Kingshighway to Dearmont Hall, which means that poor soul is going to have trouble making it to English comp and algebra on a regular basis.

Can't get from there to here to register? You better try a community college for a year or two. Or sign up for one of the university's remedial driving courses, which are offered only during August to take full advantage of the orange barrels.

Parents of students are tested as well during August. Already quivering from the prospect of writing a check with more digits than fingers on one hand, parents need a good dose of reality as they deliver their sons and daughters -- the future of our great nation -- to the care of academics.

I've found that maneuvering around street construction zones is an opportunity for family bonding. It gives parents, especially fathers, a teaching moment to practice another language. Some call it cursing. I call it Anglo-Saxon, which is studied far too little, in my opinion.

There also are off-street indications that school is about to resume. Stores have their back-to-school sales in full swing. Never mind that shoppers in Cape Girardeau this year won't benefit fully from the annual sales tax holiday, because the city is barely afloat, financially speaking.

City leaders have their priorities. God bless 'em, you can see them trying to do the right thing. Which results in raking in a few thousand extra dollars of sales tax revenue. This makes it look like the city means business when it comes to the budget.

The city prefers to give its breaks -- although they don't come out of the same pot -- to air passengers at our airport, whose terminal is basically empty except for Sandy's Place, a swell destination if you're hungry for all-you-can-eat fried chicken on Sundays.

The city won't give up its sales tax moola for one weekend a year to help parents of schoolchildren, but it's OK to take nearly $2,000 in federal funds for every passenger who shows up to board the commuter plane to and from Lambert-St. Louis International Airport.

As the day approaches for university students to move into dorms, here's a suggestion: Volunteer to be an Official Direction Giver.

This is a simple, no-cost program. Stand on a street corner (you pick) and watch cars creeping along while motorists and occupants search for street signs while dodging construction barriers. Hold up an official chamber of commerce map to indicate that you are an Official Direction Giver.

Suggest a slight detour. Send these motorists back to the interstate. Tell them how to cross the Mississippi River at Chester or Cairo. Show them, on the map, how to get to the Bill Emerson Memorial Bridge and past the River Campus. Remind them to watch for university shuttle buses, which can be followed to the main campus, most likely avoiding streets where constructions projects are underway.

Welcome to Cape Girardeau, where the river tells 1,000 tales -- and the streets take 10,000 detours in the month of August.

jsullivan@semissourian.com<I>