Nothing ever happens on my tiny street on Tuesday, between noon and one. Nevertheless, you’re not allowed to park there, even if you’re one of those privileged citizens who, like me, have paid the 50$ a year to get a sticker allowing you to park anywhere in the neighborhood. I thought that with the enormous piles of snow that got dumped on the city this weekend, they would be more lenient about the no-parking-on-my-street-on-Tuesday-between-noon-and-one rule. I figured they wouldn’t make everyone dig out their cars and try to squeeze them all onto the neighboring streets, in the non-existing spots between other buried cars and mountains of snow.

But nooooo. I had to do just that this morning. The sad part is, nothing is going to happen on my street between noon and one today. No garbage removal, no recycling removal, no street cleaning, NO SNOW REMOVAL. We’ll just squeeze our poor cars back onto the snowbanks on my street when we come home tonight, only to restart the slip-sliding ballet of spinning wheels and snowbank squeezing on Friday, on the occasion of the equally-mysterious no-parking-on-my-street-on-Friday-between-noon-and-one dance.

We were watching the international weather this morning during breakfast, and I remarked to T that in Norway, a NORDIC country, it’s 20 degrees warmer than here right now. From the information on the weather channel, it seemed we were the coldest city in the entire free world. I used to say, “it isn’t because you’re born somewhere that you have to stay there”. So we’re thinking about opening a depanneur in Nassau, Abidjan, or Dakar.

Every other place in the world would be a thermal improvement.

(picture from Garret Wilson)