Surround yourself with Druggie Friends

This is why I don't do drugs. And why I surround myself with friends that do.

Snow Devolution

This past week a rather magnificent storm pounded the northwest. A frigid torrent of Canadian Arctic air violently collided with moisture breathed from the bowls of Mt. Olympus himself. Snowpocalypse 2010 was born. It was during my long (3 hour) commute home that I began to question why is winter travel so incapacitating here in Seattle. Now I grew up in the rural mountains of Colorado, the kind of place where one drives 70 mph over the passes in a whiteout without batting an eye. So what makes travel so different here? 
First, the city has 20 snow plows to upkeep 1,524 lane miles of arterial streets (or 76 lane miles per plow). Simply put when it is snowing the city cannot keep the streets open. Once snow stops and the arterial streets are clear then the city can begin to address the thousands of lane miles of neighborhood streets. Keep in mind many of the neighborhood streets are either too narrow, too steep, or cobbled which prevents the use of a plow.
Second, we have hills. Sure the Twin Cities see cold temperatures and plenty of snow; but it is flatter than shit there. When a 12% grade is covered in ice there is nothing the city can do except close it. And if you own a gas guzzling 600 HP power stroke diesel, you are still screwed. Just because you feel indestructible in your tank, doesn't mean nature isn't going to own you. Buckle up ass hole!

But, Colorado has snow, cold weather, and hills and they still get around. Yes that is all true, but they not only have ample plows to handle the workload, but they also have a population that is conditioned for living in such an environment. They drive 4X4 cars, have chains and studded tires. But Colorado's roads remain relatively ice free. Why is this?
My third point is the hippie paradox. In Colorado roads are bathed in the chemical magnesium-chloride or "mag" as the locals call it. This wonder drug lowers the freezing point and thus keeps the roads wet, not frozen. A oily translucent slime is splashed against your car all winter long, requiring you to carry extra windshield wiper fluid just to make a three hour drive on the highway. Furthermore Mag eats away the paint and many of the casings on your car. So now you have to wash your car all winter long. Although the government claims it is safe, I question this. If it eats away at my car, what does it do to the environment? And in the environmental mecca of Seattle, there is no way the citizens would permit thousands of gallons of this stuff draining into the sound and lubing up Willy. And we all know from the last snow storm we can't use salt cause it is bad for the Sound. So this time we tried a new product; brine water. Essentially a concentrated salt water mix, it was supposed to be less harmful than salt and closer in concentrations to sea water. Sounds great right? Well that was until this past storm when the Artic air from our Northern Neighbors froze that shit to the roads. So we ended up with salty icy roads.

But what perplexes me most is the attitude of Seattle's citizens. We have had snow before. We have had icy roads before. And we have all seen the youtube videos of cars cascading down our streets wrecking havoc on other cars. And yet each year we try again to conquer mother nature. It is devolution at its finest. What nudges a motorist to once again risk thousands of dollars in vehicle damage and the safety of themselves and their neighbors to try to summit a hill? You can walk up the hill more easily, more safely, and come the next morning you don't have to drive your car back down the hill you just so valiantly conquered the previous day. What is more astounding than this are the ones that avoid the secondary hills and go for the gusto. Queen Anne hill is steep, we all know this. There are other less steep routes to the top than Queen Anne Blvd. And yet some people gun their Subaru up the hill in a valiant attempt at youtube immortality. And not surprisingly they come up short and stack by the side of the road with all the other meatheads who too commonly exaggerate the true measure of an inch. This is not some pissing contest or a platform to whip it out and demonstrate how manly you are. This is mother nature and she will kick your ass. So next time leave your car behind. Take to foot or hop on the lightrail. There are better, faster, safer, and more cost effective ways to get home. Leave the hills for the sledders, cause you all know you aren't going to work the next day. And lastly, don't bitch to the mayor, he is mortal and can't walk on water or drive on ice either.

Battle of the Bums

So I failed to make a solitary post for the month of October. Excuses aside, I am going to chalk it up to the fact that I was planning a minor adventure to SE Asia and thus spent two weeks away from the allure of my glowing monitor and clunky keyboard. That is not to say that I stopped making notes of the obscure everyday occurrences I witnessed.


On a recent walk to the grocery store I approached a rather dangerous intersection. Four roads come together, three of which are one way streets, and none of them line up. This not only makes the intersection mind numbing for the motorist, as they struggle to decipher the universe ending possibility of a legal left turn on red, but it creates an equally ambiguous dilemma for the pedestrian. The best part about this intersection is the coffee shop which sits quaintly on the corner. Chairs provide a front row seat to the spectacle of real life frogger combined with Washington drivers. So at this intersection I found myself patiently waiting for that perfect window of opportunity when the red hand transitions to the white walking man. It is at just that moment when one must bravely claim the intersection. While this is going on I see a bum woman and a bum man waiting on the other side. They are talking rather loudly, his speech slurred. People are taking notice, wondering if something is amiss. And then out of nowhere, just before the signal transitions to walking man; she pushes him. I am not talking some playful little nudge. No she forcefully shoves this grown man to the curb. The bags he is holding in his hands spill into the streets, a tsunami of paper bagged liquor. His one tattered shoe shoots airborne as he stumbles for footing with the curb. Full beers cans roll down the street. Not only was her push good and forceful, her timing was impeccable. Just at the moment that his stubbled face is making contact with the asphalt, the light turns green. Motorists are dazed, taunted by the green light they cannot accept and baffled by the audacity of this woman. Pedestrians are equally perplexed, uncertain to whom they should offer aid. Bum, rolling beers, stalled motorists, bagged booze, baffled citizens, and a single defiant woman simultaneously possess the intersection of chaos. Time progresses slower, the only movement that of the brazen woman who crosses the intersection and confidently states, "that felt great!" A wry grin showing on her lips. Green turns to yellow and everyone returns to their senses rapidly helping to collect the man's belongings and return order to the intersection.