Accelerated Adolescence

Snow Shovel

Today it snowed something crazy like six or seven inches of snow. This is unremarkable in Mentor. In Oxford, it is debilitating. I'm pretty sure that the entire township has only one snowplow, it also doubles as a salt truck. In an effort to keep the landlord from over-salting the walk, I borrowed a shovel from our supers and began shoveling with them. They were duly appreciative. Kristen came out just about when we were finishing up and asked me to take her to class. Ok. We get in the car and hit the road. We pick up a couple of people on the way that were waiting in futility for a bus to arrive. I drop them off. There's no problem here. Everyone is driving eight miles an hour, but there's an otherwise steady flow of traffic. I go to the post office to drop off a few things, Sleet, Hail, Snow, etc... right? The post office is not only open, but its driveway has been plowed. The rest of Oxford is knee high, but not the P.O. Ah, the good old post office.

On my way home, I witness the complete breakdown of the ability to drive. 4x4s are littered on the side of the road like discarded McDonalds wrappers. Cars fishtail right in front of me. I'm going 20 mph (except when someone is in front of me, then it's back to 8). I am not having any problems, my light little Nissan barely fishtails. I take corners with ease and my back end is entirely in control. This is not a testament to my driving skills, only a commentary on how Cleveland hardens you to nasty weather.

At home, I pick up the shovel again and shovel some more. The snow has been accumulating. I dig out the walk and then dig out the parking spot our car is in (the parking lots haven't even been touched). Now I'm down the street at a friends house digging out her car. She wants to borrow the shovel to go to her professor's house (he has a limp and needs a cane) and shovel the driveway. I suggest we go together.

Now we're in the car, with Hillary, driving her to work before we head out to Professor X's house. I'm on a hill telling them about some time when I was driving in Cleveland and there's a stopped car in front of me. This is bad. I'm stopped. The car finally starts moving, but now I have to figure out a way to get my 400 lb Nissan to do anything on all of this snow. I tried easing into acceleration. Nothing. A little more gas. Nothing. More gas. Still nothing. Finally, we're moving. The car is going 4 miles an hour, the spedometer reads 30. I'm still telling my story and hoping that I don't find good traction the hard way. I make it to the top of the hill (finally). We're safe. It's snowing badly, whiteout conditions. "I'm from Cleveland," I say, with a waive of my hand. "Where are the plows? This is crazy!" I think.

We drop Hillary off without incident, circle around campus (about a 4 mile trip) and are back where we started, headed toward Professor X's. We hit a steep hill. Man, I thought this hill was less steep and slippery. Then we get to another hill. Why are there so many cars parked on the side of a snow route? Oh, there's just one. Well, it feels like its more, especially because I'm going to hit it! Oh, goodness, I'm not hitting it, just a little close call, that's all. Shannon says, "Mendon, I'm really glad that you decided to drive because there's no way I could do this." Thanks for your vote of confidence, you should save it for the election.

Driving through eight or nine inches of unpacked fresh powder is a bit harrying. No one has been on this road since it started snowing. Maybe one car. It's just white, everywhere. Is it that house? No, it's a couple more down. That one? No, further. How much further? Relax, we're just at the third house. Ok.
Did you call before we came?
No. If I had called, he would have told me not to come.
Ah, I see, you won't let anyone compromise your altruism with their unbridled sensibilities?
Here it is.
Good.
Wow, those are some enormous piles of unshoveled snow on the side of the driveway.
Oh man, I knew I should have called. Let's go then? Yeah, you can just drop me at the corner of Chestnut and Arrowhead so that I can walk. I like the snow, it's adventurous.

Now I'm back at the apartment, still in the car. Someone has taken my nicely dug out parking spot. I cross the street and proceed to dig myself out again. Then I remember the blind woman who uses her seeing eye dog to get everywhere and shovel the walk to her flat. Now, I'm shoveling a path to the dumpster just in case. I'm going inside when someone asks me where I parked. I tell him and he nods and goes inside. I like this neighbor so I go out back and dig out his car.

I'm inside, sitting at my computer, writing a shaggy blog story, and my back hurts because I shoveled a lot and the handle was too short.

Posted by Mendon at February 6, 2007 6:17 PM