Do snow days kick buttocks or what! I remember being a youngster and enjoying the freedom and bliss of a day without the pain of school. Of course, those days were further back for me than for most students.
The signal for school cancellations then were less advanced than Wednesday's e-mail notification. Instead, we got up and gathered in the living room wearing "Star Wars" jammies, drinking Irish coffee and watching Johnny Carson recorded from the night before. Mother listened to the radio for closings while tending to the sour mash in the still.
When the good news came, we took our sleds and made for the hazardous slopes of Valley View golf course. Ah, what a childhood.
Since then, snow days haven't been as plentiful. For several years I was a stooge out in the real world. Those ugly philistines demanded production and they really liked it when people came to work. I made many white-knuckled trips to work in wintertime, waiting for the golden BB to come and get me.
Two winters ago, there was a snowstorm that sent a chill down the skivvies of everyone on campus for a solid week. Classes were canceled for a few days, and it was a phenomenon so rare that it was reported on the local TV news. They said classes here hadn't been canceled since before Moses drank the Dead Sea and spat it on the Japanese navy at the Battle of Tuscaloosa.
Thinking on the present weather situation, I observed there was very little wind or drifting snow. It was deep, but not totally insane, as it was two years ago. So, what's with the ease of cancellation on Wednesday?
First of all, more than a foot of snow fell. So much for the weathermen who warned of three to four inches a few days ago. To most rationally thinking people, a foot of snow is reason enough to forego most daily activities and sit at home with a box of hand-rolled cigars soaked in Pusser's British Navy Rum. That's especially true these days, when a lot of work can be done electronically.
City plows weren't plentiful. Reports from thestarpress.com said the plow crew struggled to handle the snow. The article said the city has 12 plows - three with busted engines and one with frozen fuel lines - which leaves us with eight plows for a city of more than 65,000 people.
This story really started months ago. As it happens, there was quite a stink regarding an announcement saying there would be no overtime paid to city plow drivers this winter. They work from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m., no ifs ands or buts.
Another Star Press article from November said the union representing these workers, The American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees agreed to allow shift changes "at a moment's notice." What was the rule on shift changes before? Seven days. The article reported that this wouldn't help with extended snowfalls anyway. The whole thing was bureaucratic red tape cutting in a gesture of cooperation. It just means plow drivers can work during the time the snow is falling. It allows for no extra man hours. The whole thing sounds more depressing as the muck deepens.
It looks like we have a small fleet of plows in a state of disrepair, we fielded eight drivers for this storm to keep Muncie streets clear and somehow it had to be done in the space of a single shift.
That explains why the streets were in bad enough condition to call off classes for the day.
It sounds like the snow removal coffers are running low. Why are we so short on money to pay this ragtag but feisty handful of heroes? The answer is obvious. We need to burn more fossil fuels and inhale more smoke.
Muncie's Municipal Street Department is funded by state gasoline and cigarette tax revenue. Our snow removal and salting of the streets is dependent upon how much fuel we burn and how many cigarettes we can smoke. I'm going to do my part and bump myself up to three packs a day. I'll try to burn at least a full tank every week as well. I drive a Suburban with a 42-gallon tank, so that's quite a contribution. I hope you'll all join me in my campaign to correct this situation.
Let's give the movement a name: Smoke and drive not to slip and crash!
Write to John at jrfrees@bsu.edu
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