Parking in New York sends you to ecstasy or rips your heart out. Which is to say, it’s a natural continuation of family life. Most of the time it is joyous. Joy is an odd word to use in connection with parking, but some of my happiest moments have come in connection with finding a good parking space. Often enough, though, it is terrible — so it feels like an even balance, and for this reason, parking the car is always an occasion of great suspense.

Take one recent evening, a Wednesday: we arrived in our neighborhood at the end of an ambitious expedition, our bedtime schedule long lost. There had been a truly fantastic sunset that we witnessed coming down the Henry Hudson Parkway, but our pleasure was diminished by the fact that the baby was asleep in the car. It was after 8 P. M. He would need to be woken and bathed. The only question was if Evangeline — five years old — might still get to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour.

The answer lay with the fate of the parking.

We approached our block, our building. A tremor of hope that a miracle would occur moved through my wife and me, battling despair as the alternative scenario. I asked her the usual question, like the riddle of the Sphinx: “Do you want to get out with the kids or do you want to drive around with me looking for a spot?”

She doesn’t find this choice easy. I don’t blame her. In this sense I have it easy — I will park the car. It is a necessity. She is an excellent driver but this parking duty feels fatherly, hunter-gatherer, stoic.

Internet: <www.newyorker.com> (adapted).

Parking in New York sends you to ecstasy or rips your heart out. Which is to say, it’s a natural continuation of family life. Most of the time it is joyous. Joy is an odd word to use in connection with parking, but some of my happiest moments have come in connection with finding a good parking space. Often enough, though, it is terrible — so it feels like an even balance, and for this reason, parking the car is always an occasion of great suspense.

Take one recent evening, a Wednesday: we arrived in our neighborhood at the end of an ambitious expedition, our bedtime schedule long lost. There had been a truly fantastic sunset that we witnessed coming down the Henry Hudson Parkway, but our pleasure was diminished by the fact that the baby was asleep in the car. It was after 8 P. M. He would need to be woken and bathed. The only question was if Evangeline — five years old — might still get to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour.

The answer lay with the fate of the parking.

We approached our block, our building. A tremor of hope that a miracle would occur moved through my wife and me, battling despair as the alternative scenario. I asked her the usual question, like the riddle of the Sphinx: “Do you want to get out with the kids or do you want to drive around with me looking for a spot?”

She doesn’t find this choice easy. I don’t blame her. In this sense I have it easy — I will park the car. It is a necessity. She is an excellent driver but this parking duty feels fatherly, hunter-gatherer, stoic.

Internet: <www.newyorker.com> (adapted).

Parking in New York sends you to ecstasy or rips your heart out. Which is to say, it’s a natural continuation of family life. Most of the time it is joyous. Joy is an odd word to use in connection with parking, but some of my happiest moments have come in connection with finding a good parking space. Often enough, though, it is terrible — so it feels like an even balance, and for this reason, parking the car is always an occasion of great suspense.

Take one recent evening, a Wednesday: we arrived in our neighborhood at the end of an ambitious expedition, our bedtime schedule long lost. There had been a truly fantastic sunset that we witnessed coming down the Henry Hudson Parkway, but our pleasure was diminished by the fact that the baby was asleep in the car. It was after 8 P. M. He would need to be woken and bathed. The only question was if Evangeline — five years old — might still get to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour.

The answer lay with the fate of the parking.

We approached our block, our building. A tremor of hope that a miracle would occur moved through my wife and me, battling despair as the alternative scenario. I asked her the usual question, like the riddle of the Sphinx: “Do you want to get out with the kids or do you want to drive around with me looking for a spot?”

She doesn’t find this choice easy. I don’t blame her. In this sense I have it easy — I will park the car. It is a necessity. She is an excellent driver but this parking duty feels fatherly, hunter-gatherer, stoic.

Internet: <www.newyorker.com> (adapted).

Parking in New York sends you to ecstasy or rips your heart out. Which is to say, it’s a natural continuation of family life. Most of the time it is joyous. Joy is an odd word to use in connection with parking, but some of my happiest moments have come in connection with finding a good parking space. Often enough, though, it is terrible — so it feels like an even balance, and for this reason, parking the car is always an occasion of great suspense.

Take one recent evening, a Wednesday: we arrived in our neighborhood at the end of an ambitious expedition, our bedtime schedule long lost. There had been a truly fantastic sunset that we witnessed coming down the Henry Hudson Parkway, but our pleasure was diminished by the fact that the baby was asleep in the car. It was after 8 P. M. He would need to be woken and bathed. The only question was if Evangeline — five years old — might still get to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour.

The answer lay with the fate of the parking.

We approached our block, our building. A tremor of hope that a miracle would occur moved through my wife and me, battling despair as the alternative scenario. I asked her the usual question, like the riddle of the Sphinx: “Do you want to get out with the kids or do you want to drive around with me looking for a spot?”

She doesn’t find this choice easy. I don’t blame her. In this sense I have it easy — I will park the car. It is a necessity. She is an excellent driver but this parking duty feels fatherly, hunter-gatherer, stoic.

Internet: <www.newyorker.com> (adapted).

Parking in New York sends you to ecstasy or rips your heart out. Which is to say, it’s a natural continuation of family life. Most of the time it is joyous. Joy is an odd word to use in connection with parking, but some of my happiest moments have come in connection with finding a good parking space. Often enough, though, it is terrible — so it feels like an even balance, and for this reason, parking the car is always an occasion of great suspense.

Take one recent evening, a Wednesday: we arrived in our neighborhood at the end of an ambitious expedition, our bedtime schedule long lost. There had been a truly fantastic sunset that we witnessed coming down the Henry Hudson Parkway, but our pleasure was diminished by the fact that the baby was asleep in the car. It was after 8 P. M. He would need to be woken and bathed. The only question was if Evangeline — five years old — might still get to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour.

The answer lay with the fate of the parking.

We approached our block, our building. A tremor of hope that a miracle would occur moved through my wife and me, battling despair as the alternative scenario. I asked her the usual question, like the riddle of the Sphinx: “Do you want to get out with the kids or do you want to drive around with me looking for a spot?”

She doesn’t find this choice easy. I don’t blame her. In this sense I have it easy — I will park the car. It is a necessity. She is an excellent driver but this parking duty feels fatherly, hunter-gatherer, stoic.

Internet: <www.newyorker.com> (adapted).

In order for young people to do better in school, it helps if they actually are in school. Schools basically have two options when it comes to fighting chronic truancy. There’s the positive approach, in which students are rewarded with iPads, sneakers, gift cards, and other incentives merely for showing up at school. Then there’s the flip side, in which students and parents are penalized for unexcused absences. In the past, parents have been sentenced to jail time for failing to get their children to school. Prosecutors have also suggested jail time as a penalty for missing parent-teacher conferences. Now there’s a school system in the news because itssuperintendent plans on fining families $ 75 for each day a student skips school.

In New Britain, Connecticut, a new superintendent of schools named Kelt Cooper wants to end high truancy rates among public school students, and he’s proposing monetary penalties to get the job done. A plan to fine students $ 75 per skipped school day is now being considered by New Britain council members.

The concept of fining kids for skipping school may come as a shock, but it’s not new. In Ohio, the guardians responsible for a student guilty of habitual truancy can be fined up to $ 500 and/or be required to perform up to 70 hours of community service. Until recently, students in Los Angeles could be hit with a $ 250 penalty for each count of truancy; in early 2012 the law was amended and the expensive fines were removed, though a $ 20 penalty may still be handed out for the third offense.

Internet: <http://moneyland.time.com> (adapted).

In order for young people to do better in school, it helps if they actually are in school. Schools basically have two options when it comes to fighting chronic truancy. There’s the positive approach, in which students are rewarded with iPads, sneakers, gift cards, and other incentives merely for showing up at school. Then there’s the flip side, in which students and parents are penalized for unexcused absences. In the past, parents have been sentenced to jail time for failing to get their children to school. Prosecutors have also suggested jail time as a penalty for missing parent-teacher conferences. Now there’s a school system in the news because itssuperintendent plans on fining families $ 75 for each day a student skips school.

In New Britain, Connecticut, a new superintendent of schools named Kelt Cooper wants to end high truancy rates among public school students, and he’s proposing monetary penalties to get the job done. A plan to fine students $ 75 per skipped school day is now being considered by New Britain council members.

The concept of fining kids for skipping school may come as a shock, but it’s not new. In Ohio, the guardians responsible for a student guilty of habitual truancy can be fined up to $ 500 and/or be required to perform up to 70 hours of community service. Until recently, students in Los Angeles could be hit with a $ 250 penalty for each count of truancy; in early 2012 the law was amended and the expensive fines were removed, though a $ 20 penalty may still be handed out for the third offense.

Internet: <http://moneyland.time.com> (adapted).

In order for young people to do better in school, it helps if they actually are in school. Schools basically have two options when it comes to fighting chronic truancy. There’s the positive approach, in which students are rewarded with iPads, sneakers, gift cards, and other incentives merely for showing up at school. Then there’s the flip side, in which students and parents are penalized for unexcused absences. In the past, parents have been sentenced to jail time for failing to get their children to school. Prosecutors have also suggested jail time as a penalty for missing parent-teacher conferences. Now there’s a school system in the news because its superintendent plans on fining families $ 75 for each day a student skips school.

In New Britain, Connecticut, a new superintendent of schools named Kelt Cooper wants to end high truancy rates among public school students, and he’s proposing monetary penalties to get the job done. A plan to fine students $ 75 per skipped school day is now being considered by New Britain council members.

The concept of fining kids for skipping school may come as a shock, but it’s not new. In Ohio, the guardians responsible for a student guilty of habitual truancy can be fined up to $ 500 and/or be required to perform up to 70 hours of community service. Until recently, students in Los Angeles could be hit with a $ 250 penalty for each count of truancy; in early 2012 the law was amended and the expensive fines were removed, though a $ 20 penalty may still be handed out for the third offense.

Internet: <http://moneyland.time.com> (adapted).

In order for young people to do better in school, it helps if they actually are in school. Schools basically have two options when it comes to fighting chronic truancy. There’s the positive approach, in which students are rewarded with iPads, sneakers, gift cards, and other incentives merely for showing up at school. Then there’s the flip side, in which students and parents are penalized for unexcused absences. In the past, parents have been sentenced to jail time for failing to get their children to school. Prosecutors have also suggested jail time as a penalty for missing parent-teacher conferences. Now there’s a school system in the news because its superintendent plans on fining families $ 75 for each day a student skips school.

In New Britain, Connecticut, a new superintendent of schools named Kelt Cooper wants to end high truancy rates among public school students, and he’s proposing monetary penalties to get the job done. A plan to fine students $ 75 per skipped school day is now being considered by New Britain council members.

The concept of fining kids for skipping school may come as a shock, but it’s not new. In Ohio, the guardians responsible for a student guilty of habitual truancy can be fined up to $ 500 and/or be required to perform up to 70 hours of community service. Until recently, students in Los Angeles could be hit with a $ 250 penalty for each count of truancy; in early 2012 the law was amended and the expensive fines were removed, though a $ 20 penalty may still be handed out for the third offense.

Internet: <http://moneyland.time.com> (adapted).

In order for young people to do better in school, it helps if they actually are in school. Schools basically have two options when it comes to fighting chronic truancy. There’s the positive approach, in which students are rewarded with iPads, sneakers, gift cards, and other incentives merely for showing up at school. Then there’s the flip side, in which students and parents are penalized for unexcused absences. In the past, parents have been sentenced to jail time for failing to get their children to school. Prosecutors have also suggested jail time as a penalty for missing parent-teacher conferences. Now there’s a school system in the news because its superintendent plans on fining families $ 75 for each day a student skips school.

In New Britain, Connecticut, a new superintendent of schools named Kelt Cooper wants to end high truancy rates among public school students, and he’s proposing monetary penalties to get the job done. A plan to fine students $ 75 per skipped school day is now being considered by New Britain council members.

The concept of fining kids for skipping school may come as a shock, but it’s not new. In Ohio, the guardians responsible for a student guilty of habitual truancy can be fined up to $ 500 and/or be required to perform up to 70 hours of community service. Until recently, students in Los Angeles could be hit with a $ 250 penalty for each count of truancy; in early 2012 the law was amended and the expensive fines were removed, though a $ 20 penalty may still be handed out for the third offense.

Internet: <http://moneyland.time.com> (adapted).