I was carpooling this morning across what used to be the mighty and still lovely Susquehanna, before it was all dammed up, as snow flurries began to fall.
The sky was grey, the highway was slowly turning white and many cars were covered with a white and grey with a combination of snow, slush and road salt.
It was a ghostly looking caravan made a bit more treacherous because some of my fellow drivers neglected to turn on their car’s headlights, fog lights, tail lights or any other illumination required by law when using windshield wipers.
Some regulations appear to merely suggestions or just plain optional depending on the IQ and common sense of the driver. In both cases low and lacking. Great title for a future post I think.
In an attempt to pretend it was once again 80 degrees and once again July, 1963 I tossed this little gem into the cd player.
As me and my buddy ruminated on our respected ages, declining incomes, general desire NOT to work anymore and our collective inability to understand the current world at least the music brought us back to a simpler time when our roads ahead and our visions were clear, as opposed to the increasingly streak smudged windshield I was peering through.
And then in a flash of insight ( I thought so anyways) as we were talking about how great things used to be I somehow married our discussion with the weather and said something like:” When we were young our whole lives were stretched out ahead of us just like this road except we couldn’t have possibly known about the Black Ice patches that lay ahead.
Boom – Dead silence and an aha moment.
Life is kinda filled with patches of Black Ice I suppose although it goes by many other names but this morning Black Ice seemed appropriate enough. Some of those rough spots are of our own making and I take responsibility for those.
It’s the ones you never expect when you’re cruising along with the top down and radio blasting.
Freezing rain tonight followed by temps in the 40’s tomorrow.
I can’t wait until it’s 80 degrees and July 1963 again.