Brewed Beverage of Choice: A Glass of Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale because I found one way back in the fridge
Soundtrack of the Evening: The Great Destroyer - Low
Yesterday morning as I woke from one of the strangest dreams I have had in a long time, I was greeted at the window by a dusting of snow on the ground prompting me to turn on the tele to see what the news was covering. And as I sat there screaming at the tele because they kept saying that this storm took us all by surprise which of course is a big, fat lie considering the whole newscast the night before was entirely on the pending snow storm. For future reference for the non-Portlanders, an inch or more of snow is a storm.
It did not seem to me to be so bad and according to the mass transit website all my bus and train routes were still running. So I ventured out to go do a brew so I could enjoy my three days off. Of course what I think is bad and what everyone else thinks is bad are two vastly different views. Cars, buses, trucks were sliding everywhere, including the one I got on to get to work. By the time I made it to my second to last destination the roads were unbearable. So I went back home.
It was on my way back home…Well actually it was after I sat at a stop downtown and saw nothing coming for miles which got me to decide to walk home…Well that and hearing everyone complain about how the buses were late. It was then I thought, ‘I sure am glad I was raised in the Midwest.’ It was there that I learned the patience of having to live through long, snowy winters.
It is one thing to complain about something like the president muffing something up, or crappy service at a dining establishment. But it is entirely different when you are complaining about something you cannot control like the weather and how that affects something that relies on somewhat decent weather, like public transportation. People were complaining that it took them 3 hours to get somewhere. My heart bled for them. How rough it is to actually make it to your destination. Life can be so tough sometimes.
So as I am crossing the Hawthorne bridge noticing how beautiful the river and the shore look covered in snow, I begin to laugh. Laughing because I am walking over 2 miles in a ’snow storm’ to get home to see my dog, thankful that I get a day off of work. Laughing because the scene is far too wonderful for my eyes. Laughing because I will sleep well from the walk. Laughing because I am some schlep who was raised in Wisconsin where snow is an afterthought. Laughing because at the end of this bridge is a brewpub and I will be needing a break before I continue on…
Prost!
the snowed-in confucian brewer
We got a bit less snow up here, and all of the busses were chained so they got around pretty well, but I hear ya. I walked a whopping 1.7 miles home from somewhere over ice the other day and apparently remembered how to dress for weather. The only thing that was cold when I got home was my nose, and in the meantime I’d enjoyed a very very peaceful walk.
Comment by kbuxton — 17 January 2007 @ 11:20 pm