Once upon a time, the brilliant minds that control the yellow stripes in parking lots had the foresight to mix sand in with the paint. This way when it rained, the eye-sores that mark the walk / don’t walk / park / don’t park areas would remain grip-a-licious.

I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way the recipe must have been destroyed. Unable to replicate from memory or reverse engineer, they did what they could. They painted. Without sand.

My problem with this presented itself last night as one weary and hungry traveler (that would be me) wanted only to stop at Whole Foods, pick up something for supper, go home and collapse.

As I strolled across the parking lot in the thick air and black asphalt of the after rain, I found myself stepping on what we’ll call “The Yellow”. Now luckily, I didn’t wipe out, but I did lose my ground for a split second and was reminded of the black ice of my frigid home and the havoc it wreaked on the spine.

So there it is. On the way back to the car I played dodge-the-paint, which I shouldn’t have to. Isn’t it an OSHA requirement or something?

Maybe I’ll just start carrying a bucket of sand around in the back of the Jeep along with a can of The Yellow and make my own adjustments as I see fit. Or you could just buy me a paint wand.

Vigilante safety they’ll call it. There will be headlines everywhere. Maybe I’ll even wear a cape.