Blizzard!

I'll be home for the blizzard, thankfully, stay safe out there those of you working, and those who are not please remember those who are, and their families who may need a helping hand. I spent many a storm helping others and leaving my own family to fend for themselves. Tough bunch that family of mine, but everybody appreciates a little help now and then.

 

When we got buried in '78 I was fifteen. Three feet of snow, all at once. Well, maybe all in a few hours, but man what a storm! The state stood still for days afterward as people dug out, got out and reached out. It was truly a memorable time in the life of anybody old enough to remember it.

Got another doozy on tap. I hope we get three feet. We need a catharses, something to get our collective heads out of our collective asses, ie. Facebook and the like. I'm hoping cell phone towers come down, and the lights go out for a few days, and people are given the opportunity to show what they are made of.

We weren't much different thirty-five years ago, people don't change that much, but our distractions do. Don't let anybody kid you, and tell you this generation is the end of civilization because it isn't. If my generation didn't destroy everything then everything is pretty much indestructible. And that's the truth.

I had an ounce of Columbian Gold, and Larry's Liquors was open for business, and money was falling out of the sky in the form of eight foot high snow drifts, and I smoked and drank and dug and made a mint. Imagine some stoned fifteen year old coming to your door and asking if he could shovel you out in this bizarro world we live in. He's be arrested, or in re-hab quicker than you could drop a hit of acid, and you would still be under a mountain of snow.

…sorry, little flashback there…

When the snow comes down, and the world stands still, and people need each other, and friendships are made, and relationships begin, and trust builds, and neighborhoods congeal – that's what I'm hoping for. I'll be the guy with the P Diddy Snorkel coat, goofy hat, big old mittens and my giant red snow blower making my way through the streets, digging people out and loving every minute of it.

And if the kids come out of the strange little worlds that we helped them create, try not to judge too harshly, they may be a bit much with the thumballina stuff, and video games and twittery things, but give them a shovel and see what happens. I didn't stay stoned forever, these kids are going to grow up too. There's nothing like a big snowstorm to get the ball rolling.

1 Comment

  • Mr618 says:

    "When we got buried in '78 I was fifteen." Damn, I was 22 and working for the PD and an alarm company. The Governor closed CT, banning all unauthorized travel. I had to go out to report for duty at the PD, and — theoretically — on call for the alarm company (we had a lot of hospitals and schools and things that now are considered "critical infrastructure").
    Somewhere in the driveway is a Chevy Silverado… but you sure as hell can't find it now.
    Stay warm and stay safe, my friend.

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Michael Morse

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