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Empty Promises



I was on my way to have fasting blood work done when I spotted this vending machine.

"Calories Count," it proclaims. "Check Then Choose." Also, "Goodness Inside."

It struck me as humorous that on the long hallway to fasting bloodwork, even the vending machines are empty.

But why, I wonder?

The buildings where Labcorp is located have always been rather a mystery to me. Tucked out of sight around the corner from Thunder Hill Road, they have a ghost town feel to them. I know they re a part of the dear, departed Columbia Medical Plan. (I learned more about that at the Columbia 50th Storytelling Event.) A few redevelopment plans have been floated. None have gained much traction.

I have a feeling that there was a time when these buildings were the hub of much activity. Now even the vending machine is deserted.

A clarification: the buildings are in good condition and my visit to Labcorp was marked by courtesy and efficiency. One empty vending machine does not a ghost town make.

We've done quite a bit in Howard County to reduce our dependence on sweetened drinks. And we've had multiple arguments about what belongs in vending machines. So I guess when I saw this one it was weighed down by local symbolism. It may have been empty of goods, but it was full of  meaning.

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