I work in Albany, the capital
of the great state of New York. Currently we are suffering the worst
winter we’ve had in years (prompt the “so much for global warming!” argument
which is just GENIUS if you ask me).
Anyway, people seem to forget
that this is typical winter of days of yore. In 1987 we got about 4 feet of
snow in October! Now we get four inches and it’s pandemonium. You go to the
grocery store – smart move, no sarcasm here – to get things so that you
don’t have to go out when the weather is worse. Riddle me this, why bread, water, milk
and eggs? If this truly is an apocalyptical storm of the millennium, why
perishable goods? But I digress. If you’re going to panic, just stay home.
The reason why this has got my goat
today is because of where I am regionally. It should come as no surprise that
we get snow, given that we live in the northeastern United States.
However, people walk around mystified. “What are these magical cold flakes
of white that are falling to earth? Are the angel’s wings shedding feathers? Is
this God’s dandruff?” No, it’s fucking snow. And it’s winter. Let’s move
on.
Another regional encumbrance is this
land only known as “The Hills”.
Moron number one: “There supposed
to get like twice as much in The Hills.”
Moron number two: “I live in The
Hills. I am probably going to stay home tomorrow.”
Then, the reason for my
headphones at my desk is because these people call their town folk who I can
only assume are guarding The Hills to check on the weather “up there”. And
then, as if we haven’t heard their conversation, they get off the
phone and repeat to whoever’s around that “My mom said it’s getting pretty
nasty up there.”
I grew up in the country. Small
farming community of fewer than 1000 people and many, many hills. We lived
in a village. There are hills around us, that’s what makes it a village.
Got it? Now a majority of my friends lived in hilly areas. You know what they
got? They got chains for the snow tires on their 4 wheel drive automobiles. You
know what they didn't get? Excuses.
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