So I'm outside shoveling snow that's as high as my ass when I see my wife looking out the window - probably checking to see that I haven't had a heart attack or something. Which I appreciate, but I think I'd appreciate it more often than, say, every 45 minutes or so. Because unless one can be revived after 45 minutes in sub-freezing temperatures, all she is going to find is a dead popsicle of a husband.
Of course, I have bigger things to worry about than possibly dying and being found 45 minutes later by my caring but otherwise pre-occupied wife. Like trying to remove the 3 foot wall of snow that the town conveniently left at the end of my driveway, courtesy of a too-small plow and a too-large snowfall. I have to remember to send them a thank you note - there is NO WAY I could have possibly built this 3 foot wall on my own!! I wonder if they are going to clean the drains sometime before May, because this mountain of snow is probably going to start melting by then.
As I struggled with the snow, I found myself wondering if George Clooney was going to set up a telethon to help those who are either buried in snow or mud? How about it George? After all, we have telethons to help everyone else - how about ourselves?
And speaking of telethons, I really do feel sorry for all of those who were lost or who lost everything due to the earthquake in Haiti. It really is a tragedy, but doesn't it underscore a bigger tragedy - that an island that COULD BE a vacation paradise is instead a wasteland of corruption and irresponsible government? I mean, if the government was any good, and if the police and the army didn't go run and hide once the earth shook, and if they had a modern building code, and perhaps a clue as to how to market themselves, all the Haitians who are working in hotels here would be working in luxury hotels there and perhaps the island wouldn't have crumbled like a house of cards.
And why is it that only the poorest of the poor seem to build their homes and communities on fault lines? Oh that's right, because the rich seem to build their homes only where there are mudslides or raging wildfires. That explains it.
Well, the snow has stopped, I'm out of coffee and patience and my back is killing me. Quitting time.
