More snow foibles

More snow foibles

To update from yesterday, we ended up with nearly a foot of snow on the ground, but the worst part was what it did to the commute. Not everyone was a prescient as me — ahem, I left at noon — and by the time people were leaving work around 2, the snow was already sticking and creating a mess. It was the commute from hell for many people.

My poor sister was traveling from Norwood to Peabody—a journey that normally takes about an hour without traffic—with her 4 kids and husband and while they started at 1 pm they didn’t get home until after 6 and perhaps almost 7. Some folks at work who didn’t leave early were still stuck there as late as 8 pm.

On the other hand, I breezed right home even faster than usual and the snow only started sticking just as I got a few miles from home.

Anyway, this morning on my way in to work I noticed a few more characteristic foibles of New Englanders in the snow, mind-boggling behaviors that make you wonder what they’re thinking. For one thing, I saw people using snow blowers to blast snow out into the street as cars are driving by. For one thing, it obscures their vision. For another, it undoes the plowing, making the street slick and difficult to drive on.

Then there are the people who are too much in a hurry to take the snow off their cars. I have seen people literally dig out portholes in the front and back windows and driver’s and passenger’s windows, leaving everything else covered, including headlights, taillights, and directional signals. Not to mention the eight-inch-thick slab of snow on the roof that comes flying off in one great mass as soon as the rocket scientists hits highway speeds.

Driving in to work this morning, I saw cars entombed on the side of the road, cars abandoned in the middle of the street, folks walking on heavily traveled byways because the sidewalks were covered and more.

A few years ago, after an even bigger storm, my car got stuck in a snow bank because some coffee-junky parked his Subaru Outback on a narrow corner of a barely plowed street outside a Starbucks, forcing me to swing wide and into an unplowed abyss.

Wow, I don’t usually start getting this antsy about snow stupidity until sometime in February. I must be getting old. I should move to Texas.

Written by
Domenico Bettinelli

Archives

Categories