Those of you who know me well are now thinking of me and Jordan Landing at the same time, and you can probably picture me going
|I got this from amenalready.tumblr.com|
and you'd be right.
But it was the day before Father's day and I had some money to spend, and I had never been there before--so on a whim I changed plans and headed to Jordan Landing instead of Valley Fair.
|"Sometimes the road less traveled is less traveled for a reason." --Jerry Seinfeld|
My welcome to Jordan Landing was less than spectacular--a big step down onto an uneven patch of grass, behind a building, with nowhere to go but all the way around it. Fairness does require the observation that this was not originally a stop on the 240, nor on the 34 before that, until the Red Line opened and the bus started going both directions through Jordan Landing. Nevertheless, it felt somewhat unceremonious as I tumbled off the bus onto the grass.
Apart from that, my biggest impression of the place was just how big it was. The stores were all so far away from the road, because there was so much parking in front of them! I have never understood why parking can't be behind the store, like it is in sensible places like SugarHouse. Of course, if I ran the world, there wouldn't be a need for much parking at all . . .
I have never felt like quite so much an alien as I did at Jordan Landing. It's not that I was ever in any danger, or even uncomfortable--there was a full sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, and there was at least plenty of room off the road where I got off. There are certainly worse bus stops in Utah. It was just that I was the only pedestrian ever. There was no one else walking. People at the four-way stops politely waited for me to cross in front of their cars, but they registered genuine surprise that someone might be trying to navigate Jordan Landing on foot. I can't have been the first person to ever attempt it, but I must have been the first person some of these people had ever seen.
And then, of course, the line was so long when I was checking out that I missed the 240 back south to the Red Line, so I ended up waiting on that same absurd patch of grass to catch the 240 north to . . . Valley Fair. The irony of the situation is not lost on me. I did eventually get home, and now I can say I visited a whole new level of suburban shopping--on the bus.