Monday, Feb. 11, 2008

BE NICE TO THE SNOWPLOW MAN.

By kate engbring
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As I walked up the hill towards my car, a small lump formed in my throat. The two feet of snow that had fallen the night before had managed to keep me locked up in my house- making it simple to become oblivious to the extent of the damage done, by what then had seemed to be beautiful white powder.

But as the hill disappeared behind me, and the area where my car had been came into view- I instantly began to curse that 'beautiful' white crap. Ahead of me was a mountain...and hopefully somewhere within that mountain- my car. The plows had done a number on my little silver Sentra. A four-foot wall surrounded the two sides, while the mountain rose high above the back of the trunk.

It was enevitable I suppose- the plows were only doing their job. I could curse no one but the snow Gods, and I realized quickly that it would do no good to begin sputtering off profanities. So I grabbed a shovel and started digging, just as thousands of other Milwaukeans had done that morning.

About half a block away, a women appeared from house. As soon as her eyes met the heap infront of her- her arms rose in protest. The plow had made its way to her area, and doing what he was paid to do, was clearing the road. She flew down the front steps- on a mission to get to her snowball of a car. Immediatly she began screaming and running towards the plow-man and his monstrous truck.

It was then that I turned away and resumed digging. If there was any way that I would reach bottom within the hour, I had to get to shovelin'. A couple choice words left the women's mouth, and a few gestures flew up, before the snowplow-man waved her off and continued to move the white mass that lay before him- shaking his head at such a ridiculous situation.

After leaving the crazy woman, his plow approached me. I was nervous for a moment, wondering if his anger towards her, might bring a worse situation for me and my little Nissan. I looked up, and he was there- five feet from me. He raised his hand, and pointed towards the sidewalk. I quickly moved to the paved area and watched. His mighty shovel descended to the ground and her began to dig. In seconds his plow had done the work that may have taken me an hour.

By the time he left- my car was free from the mountain. Before driving off he looked up at me and gave me a nod- as I waved out a 'thank you'. He started up the hill towards the screaming woman, pausing only for a moment before speeding off- leaving her and her snowball -of-a-car frozen in disbelief.

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