We don't have time for this. We can't get behind again. Snow? Again? This is Mississippi, damnit. I can't get much further south without swimming. I hereby do declare that if this is not the official last snow Mississippi will see this year then I will have to start my movement, the cause. Global Cooling when we will all be mandated to burn styrofoam in our front yards and roast marshmallows around them. One of those two birds with one stone thing where you not only help the environment but you also get in some family time.
Bring back the old lightbulbs.
I'll admit it. With only about two inches of snow on the ground I left work at 2pm. Total wuss, I know, but Warren lives only a block away, Shenna had called from the interstate crying and I am always a bit worried about the droves of heavy machinery on the roads behind me, in front of me, all over the place. I pushed into hyper speed mode, got a heavy amount of work done in a short time, waved at Warren and opened the door.
Damn. The last time I had looked outside it was an hour and a half ago and simply snowing, nothing worth of note on the ground. Now I was staring out at a white covering with only trees and cars being seen coming from the Earth. So I thought, That happened fast, and I smiled. You really can't help but smile when you see it even though you know it's very close to starting a movement which will take up way too much of your time. Slater ain't even here to burn styrofoam with me.
I opt to take the alternate highway and turn right onto the road separating Tennessee and Mississippi. Immediately after, about a tenth of a mile, I am sitting still on the road separating Tennessee and Mississippi. Inching forward very, very slowly with the people coming toward me inching less, less slowly. They're going out of town a different way. Hmm. I looked at the gas gauge, little less than half a tank. Hmm. I thought maybe I should get gas, thirty-five miles and it's a Civic. Surely. A gas station I have frequented was only about a mile up the road. I thought, We'll see how it goes.
By the time I reached the gas station there had happened an increase in momentum so I went with it in a be like water moving rather than a be like water sitting still dream. Yet it didn't last. It seemed my alternate route was my fellow man's as well. Once again, inching forward very, very slowly except this time there was nobody coming at me on the other side of the road. Everyone was going south so I did a slow, nice little u-turn and headed north. Backroads, I thought, I know how to drive a backroad. That's how I learned to drive.
Headed that way I stopped by the gas station, filled 'er up, bought a six pack of beer and a pack of cigarettes. I know, I know, you don't have to say it, bad, bad. Bottomline is I drank one beer in the two and a half hours it took me to get thirty-five miles. I'd blow into that gadget and not register but kids, seriously don't drink and definitely don't drink and drive 'cause you don't stop with one beer sometimes.
Back in the car I maneuvered around the growing number of vehicles at the gas station, tested the slick parking lot and doubted myself. You've already read here that I don't always make the best decisions or have I not told you that. I mean, seriously, I don't even own a cell phone and made the decision to drive away from civilization. There is a morning radio show played in this area which makes note of something they call Dumbass of the Day. There was a moment where I thought, Tomorrow I could be featured.
Still I headed toward the backroads. An hour into the drive I was back where I had started on the slick pavement separating Tennessee and Mississippi. Each side of the two opposing lines was inching slowly, slowly forward so much so that the friendly people were able to look each other in the face, smile and wave. One guy even gave me a double peace sign which may in today's language mean fuck you but I took it as a benevolent greeting 'cause with Jack Johnson belting out some Red Wine, Mistakes, Mythology and knowing I had provisions the only human thing I could figure to do was enjoy.
One guy looked at me through a cracked window and said, Hey, don't go that way. It goes nowhere.
Yeah, you're not going anywhere either, I responded and we both laughed.
I had a buddy that went the interstate and he was so pissed by the time I got home and called him. Ranting and raving his usual banter. All I could do was tell him I was glad he was okay and as close to home as he was 'cause it could be worse. He could be like all those people who had fallen off the road. He calmed down a little bit but not much.
I phoned a check on Shenna who had since made it home and was as happy as I've heard her in days. Something about surviving something will add a pep to your step I think.
Anyway, it was fun, it was nice, the scenery was beautiful and I lived with the only true, treacherous part being trying to get up my own driveway but then again I figured I could walk the rest of the way by that point.