snoo

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Yesterday I went up to U. Mass Amherst to help out on the pledge drive again. It was a pleasant time, sitting around the table taking calls and talking about the opera album that was the most popular premium -- a couple of people who'd already pledged called back and pledged additional amounts just to get it. Talking to one of the regular radio guys, I might have found a chance to get into a Shakespeare play. I'll have to drive a bit for what would likely be a small part, but darn if it doesn't feel worth it to me.

Near the end of the shift, between noon and one, the forecast snow started falling. When I got out to my car, I had to clear quite a bit of it off, and the roads had some piling up on there. It's maybe three miles to the Interstate from the University. Those three miles took ninety minutes, which means I averaged two miles an hour. Once on the highway, I was able to drive above 20. Sometimes as much as 35, but I didn't feel quite good at that, with the packed snow under my wheels, and stayed around 25 most of the time. I put Jean Shepherd on the mp3 player for company. Just as I was getting onto I-91, I saw a procession of students of indeterminate age carrying signs that indicated they were walking for climate study of some sort. I didn't think to take out the camera in time to get a good shot of them, which is just bloody typical for me. Sitting in a car going nowhere with a camera in arm's reach -- of course I don't think of taking a picture until the main sign carriers are out of range.

I detoured -- literally, as it turns out -- to Easthampton to get a Krazy Kat collection that I'd seen about a month ago at a good price. Leaving I-91, I took highway 141, following a line of vehicles up to a sign announcing that Mountain Road was closed from that point on. I continued to follow them in the direction indicated, seeing scenic Rock Valley and other points for the first time. I had faith I'd eventually get to Easthampton, and I did, learning in the process that Shepherd was named "Jean" because of Jean Valjean in Les Miserables (name and title both pronounced as if they were English and not French). I used their restroom (yay!), bought the book, swept more snow off my car and knocked ice off the wipers and resumed my trek.

The wipers continued to be mostly useless at anything other than collecting ice and pushing it around the windshield, making wavy patterns in the copious amounts of water they left behind. I learned that the rear defroster automatically knocks off work after a few minutes. After all, why would anybody need a defroster that keeps defrosting? I got to Sarah's preschool around 4, where I learned that leprechauns had gotten into the kitchen and made all the food green, but it still tasted like regular food. The bread wasn't green, she said, but the milk and the butter and the shepherd's pie were all green. I was listening to Shepherd, and she was eating his pie. Synchronicity.

We drove home at a reasonable pace, following plows much of the way. I'd been doing that much of the time anyway. We stayed on the mainest main roads we could get, then stopped off for groceries so I could make breakfasts on the weekend. We got home around 5:15. Snow continued to fall for as long as I was awake to look outside. I put Sarah to bed. When she was asleep, I got up to leave, and she immediately woke up again and whined at me (she has a horrible whining voice, which she switches to instantly if she thinks I'm leaving the room), which led to me yelling at her to GO TO SLEEP and stomping out. Cathy took over, and Sarah got to sleep not terribly long after that.

This morning, snow covered everything. I was glad that the snow in our yard had all gone away before we got new snow -- so much easier to shovel recent snow. We went out and shoveled, and Neil came across the street with his snow blower and did the hardest part for us, then had us move our cars out so he could excavate spots for them in our driveways as well. I made breakfast for Sarah and myself -- link sausages rolled up in crescent rolls with cheese, and topped with more cheese; eggs scrambled with cheese and cut-up sausage (seasoned with garlic salt and pepper); grape juice. It was late enough that I skipped lunch after that and still probably had too much fat for the day.

While I was shoveling, I was thinking of a new song:

ttto: "My Hand On My Head" (German kid's song)

My knucklehead friends,
What's this move here?
This is the eye poker,
Curly, my dear.
Eye poker, (index and middle fingers in the eyes)*
Soitinly!
Bee, bee-bee-bee-bee!
That's how Moe taught it to me!

My knucklehead friends,
What's this move here?
This is the ear twister,
Curly, my dear.
Ear twister,
Eye poker,
Soitinly!
Bee, bee-bee-bee-bee!
That's how Moe taught it to me!

(The maneuvers are cumulative, accompanied by the appropriate Stooge maneuver.)

Poke blocker...
(holding up a hand to block the "V" fingers in the eyes)

Face slapper...
(ideally, the slap goes across two or three other people)

Up-and-down...
(the victim's face follows the hand up and down)

Hit my hand...
(where the hand hit continues down, around, and hits the victim from the top)

Knucklehead...
(dutch rub)

When it's done, everybody singing can finish by vocalizing the familiar strains of "Listen to the Mocking Bird" that end all the Stooges shorts. Or not; what's it to me?

*This effect is achieved by sticking the fingers over the eyes, not in them! Safety first.

We had a pleasant day inside, after the shoveling was done. Sarah and I played Cootie a couple of times, and she watched TV some. I showed her how to make a cootie catcher (having seen a mention of same in Richard's old LJ entries, which I was reading in lieu of being at his memorial today), and later she made a clubhouse from chairs and blankets. She has a play date tomorrow -- I guess we'll be able to cover the appropriate distance by then. Cathy made Shepherd's pie for dinner. Sarah had a snit because there were peas and carrots in it, and was generally cranky from about 6:30 on, not having had a nap today (she went to the hairdresser at what would have been the time she normally avoids a nap). We managed to smooth it all out by the end of the day, though, and I put her to bed.

She asked me to pick out books to read tonight, and I went for the Milne "Pooh" treasury I'd bought her a couple of months ago. She balked at that, so I told her to pick her own books. She picked the Milne "Pooh" treasury and sat down next to me. I read two words, and she decided it was too long, too many words, not enough pictures, and chose three other books instead. I was just miffed enough that I read them all in a perfunctory, unpunctuated, undramatic fashion. At any rate, she was asleep a few minutes later, dropping off while I was doing my stretching exercises from the physical therapist who helped with my back. This time she didn't wake up when I crept out of the room.
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understated sarcasm of the day

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Three cheers for the Warrington Cycle Campaign in England for their delightfully dry look at the insanity that passes for bike route planning. Up to now, I thought the worst joke in this area was the "bike route" signs in Newport News on narrow back roads with deep ditches alongside, but the fine minds in the United Kingdom have them beat by a kilometer.

One of the most important factors in maintaining a cycle-friendly environment is to control vehicle speeds. Derbyshire County Council were so concerned about the excesive [sic] speeds reached by cyclists riding uphill on this section of the B6057 near Chesterfield that they introduced these novel cycle lane speed humps. Initially, there was a concern that speeding cyclists might simply ride on the road to avoid the humps. However, measurements following the implementation show that the scheme has been effective in keeping the mean speed of cyclists below 20mph.

I looked at all the examples, including this one:

Greenwich Council conducted extensive research on the factors that deter people from cycling. They discovered that a major reason for people choosing to drive rather than cycle was their fear of being seen in public. To counter this they have started to introduce signs at crossing points instructing pedestrians to look away from approaching cyclists.

and this one:

This facility is at the heart of Coventry's bid to host the 2020 Olympics. The state-of-the-art stadium provides covered seating for six spectators, with an uninterrupted view of the 5m sprint pursuit event.

Each is accompanied by a photo that makes clear what fools these mortals be. Go have a look.

update: URLs fixed; thanks to timill
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