Our new doguin, Heffley.
Luckily, Thing One was unprepared for a spelling test, so he can safely spend the whole weekend getting unprepared for it.
Naturally, there was no snow until 3pm. Even in my "What the hell is happening?" frame of mind at 5:45am, I knew as soon as I heard the announcement, that the snow would hold off, and they could have at least had a half day.
Since Beloved Queen of the Universe and Perfect Spouse Ever In The History Of Everything and I both work at a boarding school and have no snow days, we have to find a way to monitor the Things so they don't wind up in the ER. Still, we have it easy, because we live near work and can easily hand off the children between classes. I can't imagine what it's like for families who don't have that luxury. Snow days are awesome for kids, a scramble for working parents.
Once the snow arrived, it really arrived. From 3-7pm, we got about six inches of snow. Beautiful, light powdery snow. Beloved Queen of the Universe and Perfect Spouse Ever In The History Of Everything decided to take the Things to market to spend the Tooth Fairy's recent deposits under the pillow. They got stuck several times on hills in the quickly accumulating snows. It is worth mentioning that they were not on side streets when this happened but major thoroughfares.
In our town - I'm getting to the point finally - we have trouble passing the school budget (which must be passed by referendum) every damned year. It is disheartening, because we've found the teachers to be very good in our school system.
As we enter what appears to be a more sustained recovery, we are already seeing private sector job growth that looks healthy. Not healthy enough maybe, but healthy. It is government jobs at the state and local level that are really struggling (along with construction).
As state and local governments - hamstrung by balanced budget necessities - continue to slash spending, we shall see more people become fed up with their local government. Snow days when there is no snow, followed by actual snow and not enough plows on the road. Ask Bloomberg about the latter.
The average dipshit voter in our town (average age of citizen: 40, average age of budget voter: 110) doesn't care that teachers don't determine snow days or that they have to worry about early snow more than no snow. The average dipshit voter doesn't care that Public Works has a smaller budget to work with to keep the roads plowed, so they wait until the last minute to send them out.
No, the average dipshit voter only knows that they want the schools to be perfect and the streets flake free, they just don't want to pay for them. And when they gut spending, they get a government that doesn't function the way they want. So they hate their government, and gut it some more.
I wonder if Reaganism didn't begin a death spiral in American governance.
And in conclusion, my favorite poem:
SNOW DAY
Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,
its white flag waving over everything,
the landscape vanished,
not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,
and beyond these windows
the government buildings smothered,
schools and libraries buried, the post office lost
under the noiseless drift,
the paths of trains softly blocked,
the world fallen under this falling.
In a while I will put on some boots
and step out like someone walking in water,
and the dog will porpoise through the drifts,
and I will shake a laden branch,
sending a cold shower down on us both.
But for now I am a willing prisoner in this house,
a sympathizer with the anarchic cause of snow.
I will make a pot of tea
and listen to the plastic radio on the counter,
as glad as anyone to hear the news
that the Kiddie Corner School is closed,
the Ding-Dong School, closed,
the All Aboard Children's School, closed,
the Hi-Ho Nursery School, closed,
along with -- some will be delighted to hear --
the Toadstool School, the Little School,
Little Sparrows Nursery School,
Little Stars Pre-School, Peas-and-Carrots Day School,
the Tom Thumb Child Center, all closed,
and -- clap your hands -- the Peanuts Play School.
So this is where the children hide all day,
These are the nests where they letter and draw,
where they put on their bright miniature jackets,
all darting and climbing and sliding,
all but the few girls whispering by the fence.
And now I am listening hard
in the grandiose silence of the snow,
trying to hear what those three girls are plotting,
what riot is afoot,
which small queen is about to be brought down.
Billy Collins
No comments:
Post a Comment