Feb. 6th, 2007

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I applaud the snow plow.

I adore the snow plow.

I deeply appreciate the snow plow and all it does for me, clearing the streets of ice and snow so that I may drive without dying.

But why - Why - WHY must they plow my way to work when the snow is only two inches high?

Rush hour is not the time to plow main streets. It stymies progress and makes people late, and late people are apt to do crazy things like pull out into oncoming traffic just to get around them.

But, most importantly, it makes me mad at the snow plow.

I don't like being mad a the snow plow. It's like getting mad at a puppy. I feel badly afterward.

Like I've lost my temper at something that was only trying to nuzzle my elbow.

So. Take a break, snow plow.

When the morning bell chimes seven, pull off and have a coffee. Have two.

Read the paper.

Take two hours. It's my tax dollar - it's on me. I don't mind.

And, at nine o'clock when traffic eases, pick yourself up after a nice rest and continue on.

Nine o'clock drivers are less cranky, anyway.

 

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