Wednesday. January 16, 2013. 5:35am.
I flip on the weather channel for a read on the highway conditions. (Like it matters, right?)
The weather woman warns that roads will be treacherous – - wet and slippery with snow accumulation. (A call to arms for the Snowman. Need to get to the office to get a jump on God’s work.)
I’m out the door. Dark. Gloomy. Damp. Shivering. Seats are cold. Steering wheel is frigid. Frozen ice on windshield. (Where are my gloves? I miss Miami. Soft, warm, gentle breezes. Palm tree fronds rustling.)
No point sitting here, let’s get this engine firing so we can blow heat into this beast. I back out of the driveway, skidding backwards. (Not a good sign. I’m a mere 20 yards from the house.)
I arrive at I-95. Early morning traffic trying to beat rush hour and the interminable snarls later in the day. Cars, SUVs, hulking Semi-trailers – all lurching ahead in a conga line. (It’s looking a lot like Gotham City, except I’m 40 miles away from Gotham.)
I scan my playlist searching for classical music. I land on Bach-Cantata No.147. (Classical Music? Yes. A rare moment. Wonder if dust gathers on a iTunes playlist from non-use. I need something BIG. Someone famous. Important that when EMS picks me up they’d be impressed that the man is cultured. ”Wow. He was listening to Bach.” Mind wanders. Does ‘No. 147′ mean that Bach wrote 146 related pieces of this music – like a sitcom? I need a remedial class in classical music…and fast. And seriously people, isn’t that the longest song title you’ve ever seen?)
↓ click for audio (Bach: Cantata No 147, ‘Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben: Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring)
I steal periodic glances at the outside temperature gauge. (Eerie how the temperature is locked on 32F. For the entire ride. Not a degree higher. Or Lower. Freezing point. Black ice. Good DK whispering – don’t mess around today pal.)
I clutch the steering wheel with a close eye on the shoulder. (Tension climbs to my neck and shoulders. SHOULDER. The “shoulder” is trouble. The shoulder is where the snow has accumulated. Many close calls right here…wheels hit shoulder…yank car into steel guardrail…or worse.)
I’m in the left lane. Snowman’s lane. Following a Toyota Camry. That is moving at 35 MPH. Hmmmmmm. (I rattle through my 3 options. [1.] Wait patiently at a conservative distance behind. Say what? [2.] Crowd Camry and flash high beam lights. Insanity choice. [3.] Move into Center Lane, accelerate, pass and move back into Left Lane. Option 3 it is.)
I complete the 4-point maneuver. And we’re back in charge. In the left lane with a clear runway. (I hit play again – Bach is going to take me in. Memory pans back to my working days in Northern Michigan. 150″ of snow a year in Marquette. And a whopping 355″ in Houghton Michigan in ’78-’79. Now there’s snow for you people. This is training wheels.)
I create separation from other drivers and push the pace. (Separation? For the Snowman? The all-terrain Master? Yes, even Mario makes unforced errors and needs wide berth.)
Why is it that one runs to one’s ruin? Why is destruction such a fascination?
~ Oscar Wilde
Image Source: The Guardian