Why Isn't This Illegal?

Dog poop

Politicians

The weather

Sorry, I guess that’s just TWO favorite topics.

But anyway, because my last column covered topic number one and I’m sick to death of topic number two, today we’re stuck with number three, like it or not.

The problem with writing about the weather is that it can change so quickly. I’ll get all excited to complain about all the dang snow we’re getting, but by the time I’ve managed to list out my gripes the snow will have turned to rain and I’ll have to cross it all out and start in on my list of gripes about the rain. Then it will snow again, then we’ll get a cold inversion with a light sprinkling of freezing rain, then the wind will pick up! We’ll finally have a beautiful day, bright sunshine and blue sky, and I’ll sit down to wax eloquently and the next thing I know it’s all dark outside. Happens nearly every evening. It’s insanity, I tell you!

The Miracle on 22nd Street

I’m feeling bold today, so I’m gonna go with my snow gripes. Brace yourselves. There’s been snow on the ground for days and days, literally hundreds of millimeters. And it’s been cold. That East wind will rip the nose right off your face, pluck out your eyebrows, and shatter your teeth with your first gasping inhalation. Cascade Locks could revitalize their economy by blocking off I-84 and billing it as the world’s most scenic ice rink. Skate rentals alone would bring in enough to re-open their schools.

And it’s weather like this that makes me glad Hood River doesn’t have much in the way of sidewalks. By all indications sidewalks must be incredibly hazardous places in cold weather, because we spend an enormous amount of money every year to push the snow off the roads up onto the sidewalks in an obvious attempt to force pedestrians out into the street where it’s so much safer. Properly cleared sidewalks must be a high-level public safety concern, as evidenced by the diligent work on Belmont Avenue, where volunteers waste no time making sure their sidewalks are properly piled high with the snow scraped off their enormous asphalt parking lots.

It’s nice to know they care.

But before I lose too many readers with my subtle use of satirony, I want to tell you all about the MIRACLE ON 22ND STREET.

Yes, a miracle, right here in Bethlehood.

I got up this morning — yet again! — to walk the dog before I went to work (stupid mutt!). I was doing my usual grousing internal monologue, because it was 21 degrees outside and there was snow on the ground and the wind had been blowing so cold the night before that it had actually frozen my uvula. I had to gargle warm salt water just so I could swallow my bedtime dose of antidepressants.

So, I wasn’t happy as I bundled on my 14th layer of Polarfleece and Goretex and pulled on my industrial strength ear muffs, knowing that my thoughtful neighbors will have once again kindly left the snow on their sidewalks to gently remind me that it’s so much safer to walk my stupid dog on the icy streets in the dark.

But then I walked out through the gate in my fence ... and discovered the miracle.

It was like stepping into a dream. I passed through the gate onto the sidewalk, staring remorsefully at my boots, slowly noticing that something was wrong. I was standing on solid ground, my footing secure. I looked to my left, then to my right. There was no snow on the sidewalk, all the way to each corner of our block. The street was solid white with snow, but across the street the sidewalk had also been cleared. I pulled the dog forward, and it was the most beautiful sight I could imagine. It was a MIRACLE! The entire sidewalk, up and down 22nd street, both sides of Freedom Loop, over to Henson! Someone had shoveled the whole thing! Without asking, without expecting payment, without anyone knowing!

I suddenly believed in saints. It was BEAUTIFUL! My faith in human kindness came flooding back, my belief in the generosity of my fellow man returned. I was overwhelmed, thinking that if someone could do this out of the sheer goodness of their heart, then what else might we all be capable of? If one anonymous soul could shovel the entire neighborhood’s sidewalks, then think what two souls could do! Or 10! Or 100! If we all got out and shoveled our walks, the entire city would be as beautiful as 22nd Street was this morning.

And then my imagination started to soar. What if the entire county could be this generous? Or the whole country?! Why, we could do almost anything! We could vaccinate our children. We could vaccinate ALL children! We could feed the hungry, bring solace to the poor and suffering, continue letting Muslim immigrants into our borders!

But then I had this horrible thought. I looked down at my feet again, at the cold gray sidewalk wisped with bits of snow. I remembered how dangerous they could be, remembered why we kept them smothered deep with plowed snow. I looked up and down the street, at the seductive allure of the long lengths of generously shoveled walkways. And I thought: Maybe someone is trying to kill me ...