Due to recent developments the streets are narrower, friendliness is full-tilt and rock and roll & social extravaganzas have all been rescheduled. Oh, and stray cats are missing and so are the fire hydrants.
Ani and the Goo Goo Dolls (visiting from afar) float about town unable to leave while those unfamous and once from here split asap in rented cars, white knuckling it until about an hour or so away frantic to get back to NYC, Chicago, wherever. The clutches of the darkness, the act of God, breathing down the necks of the leaving in icy pursuit.
My own harrowing tale involves the highly efficient car, me, a tequila buzz and classic rock radio tunes becoming lost in a blizzard a few nights ago. I could not decipher which street(s) I was on or where the grocery store had gone to.
Two carfuls of police officers (sometimes my pals, sometimes the bane of my existence) sent me back from whence I came and then I did so, again feeling my way along and passing stuck trucks. Harrowing moments, adrenalinized.
Last night drove around after the driving ban was lifted and upon returning home went in for a crash landing into the driveway only to get hung up on a small iceberg. A drunk meandered by and wanted to help. He was none. I nearly gave myself a black eye with a shovel but should have instead aimed for the bossy drunk. Get in... turn the wheel... do this... do that. It's an odd thing, the politics of snow help. You know someone might be nincompooping yet you're being helped and can't say Ummmm, shut the hell up. Then they will leave, etc.
The car was rescued this morning and now I'm off again, into the still sunny and ominous early night.