Scratches

Comments on life, the universe and everything from an aging Sixties survivor.

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Location: Massachusetts, United States

Ummm, isn't "about me" part of the point of the blog?

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Sorry, y'all

1) Once upon a time, when E was small enough to fly in a parental lap, we had Thanksgiving with relatives then living near Washington, DC. It snowed...well, it flurried by New England standards, the coating-to-an-inch category. Even today, that hardly raises a New England weathercaster's eyebrow.

But this was the District and environs, and although it was a major holiday, traffic was tied up in knots, air traffic was delayed well into the next day, people besieged closed hardware stores looking for snow shovels.

I'm waiting for the evening news to see the hilarity that comes with with a decent snowfall of 10-15 inches or so. This may choke up the gummint worse than the health care bill.

2) Concerning snow shovels. Time and usage makes rational people tolerate panic shopping in New England when there's snow in the forecast: I suppose the panicked may need ten bags of chips and two cases of two-litre soft drinks to get through the next 24 hours. One can even manage one's anger at "nor'easter." But what is it with these people who seem to need a new snow shovel every year, or even every snowstorm?

I imagine the shovel-wielder finishing the job and saying, "well, no need to clutter the place up with this anymore," and sticking the shovel in a snow pile or the trash. The half-witted ones will wait until spring; the complete fools probably repeat this exercise with each snowfall. This vision causes my up-country reared soul to shudder.

I broke down and bought two new shovels about seven years ago, when it became clear that the two they replaced, respectively 25 and 30-plus years old (one inherited), were nearing the end of their useful lives. I still have a scraper that dates to our first winter in this house, more than 30 years ago. It's likely the current shovels will outlast me, and they'd damn well better.
The people south of the Mason-Dixon line and east of the fall line have some excuse for lacking snow shovels, but here? Crikey, this is New England! Hysterical forecasters to the contrary, it does snow here, and frequently. Get a shovel per person, something to sprinkle on the ice, take more precautions for the vehicles, and enjoy the whole spectacle.

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