Winter, he hath arrived. So of course I had to go to the Apple Store in the blizzard. Kate’s laptop was acting up, and of course it had to be fixed. So out I went, early on, and it wasn’t too bad, as long as you didn’t try to drive at Detroit speeds. Some people didn’t get the message; one spun out right in front of me on the way home, one exit before mine. He had just passed me going at least 60. (I was doing 45, which felt safe.)
I recall thinking: If this jerk hits me I am going to be so pissed.
He didn’t hit me. He was one lucky spinner, crossing three lanes of freeway before coming to rest facing traffic, but in the shoulder. Assuming everything was still inflated and aligned, all he had to do was wait for a break in traffic and do a U-turn.
Boy, was I glad to come home and see this:
Now it can be told: Deep inside, I’m a big ol’ L7 who puts up Christmas lights.
It doesn’t look like much snow. It isn’t much snow. Although it snowed heavily all day, the temperature hovered right around 31 degrees, so we mostly got slush. Then the temperature plunged overnight and the wind picked up, however, and I expect all day we’ll have falling limbs, power outages and ice upon ice. I can feel my character building.
Of course it could have been worse, and it was worse, elsewhere, and how many disappointed Vikings fans must be today, with either a worthless ticket to a football game or a very expensive one, should they be in any mood to book a last-minute flight to Detroit to watch their Vikes play tonight. Spare the jokes. OK, don’t: First prize, tickets to a Vikings-Giants game in a badly designed, unsafe stadium. Second prize, the same game in Detroit. Ha ha. We can laugh because, due to the unexpected turn of events, the game here is absolutely free. Show up, take your seat. If only I didn’t have to work. If only I cared enough about football to go downtown in single-digit temperatures, wrangle a parking place and trudge through near-gales (now blowing 29 knots) to watch a game in a warm stadium with a non-collapsing roof.
Think I’ll make beef stew instead.
And skip to the bloggage, before I go outside and attempt to chip my car out of the ice.
I missed this on Friday: John Lennon vs. Bono, and the death of the celebrity activist. Whatever shred of respect I retained for Bono blew away with his latest Louis Vuitton ad, which shows him arriving in Africa with his wife and about nine million dollars’ worth of luxury luggage, and no, I don’t care who they donated their goddamn fees to. It’s still disgusting.
Gene Weingarten can make running out of gas — no, not running out of gas — funny.
The Australian papers frequently go as far over the top as their British cousins, so caveat emptor, but here you go: Islamic biker gangs! They’re called “bikie” gangs in Oz, which for some reason makes me picture guys riding vehicles made by Fisher-Price.
And Dick Nixon gives us another gift from beyond the grave. If you read all the way to the end, you found this rancid morsel:
Nixon and Mr. Kissinger were brutally dismissive in response to requests that the United States press the Soviet Union to permit Jews to emigrate and escape persecution there.
“The emigration of Jews from the Soviet Union is not an objective of American foreign policy,” Mr. Kissinger said. “And if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern.”
“I know,” Nixon responded. “We can’t blow up the world because of it.”
Maybe a humanitarian concern. But nothing to get excited about.
OK, time to put on the parka and the long johns. It’s brutal out there.