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i try to make myself think of people in charitable ways... i mean, t'is the season, and all that. then something sticks in my mind that trashes the whole notion. take this time of year, for instance. i've been bitching about winter, which isn't officially here, yet... thanks to all of the early snows. now, i'm not the most industrious sort, on occasion, but i do manage to remove the glacier from the roof, bonnet and boot before i tear off onto the highway. i must be in the minority. i've had to take evasive action more than once, when the huge plate of ice dislodges from a vehicle i'm following... spinning like a massive chunk of plate glass into the road before me. good thing i haven't had the top down... or was on foot. that, i imagine, would hurt. and,likely, the litigation would descend heavily. perhaps the though of decapitating a pedestrian doesn't cross the mind, when the perpetrator is more worried about scratching their delicate bodywork. ah, the melodrama, the paranoid ramblings of a tired mind. it's funny, really... the lengths that some will go to to avoid cleaning snow off of a car. more than once, i was approached by a mobile object, resembling a vanilla frosted sheet cake, or a wayward parade float more than passenger transportation. one guy, i swear, had his entire car covered from front-to-back, with just a little hole to peer out of in the windscreen. nature has a way of thinning the herd with practices such as these. oops... there goes my humanitarian bent. anyway... it's almost gone, again. makes the argument pointless, dunnit? today, i made a long, circuitous trip into the country to find one of my favorite places. off of route 50, five miles from civilization, lies what at first appears to be an abandoned gas station... populated with MGs, Jags and various other comatose British casualties. actually, it's where they are revived... next door to a little shop full of imported food, beer and accents. a little union jack outpost in the middle of nowhere. nice escape from the USA, for a while. lots more character than the mall, too. Father Christmas would approve. |
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