On snow

It’s snowing again where I live. I wonder where they’re going to put it all?

Every time I start to wonder why Boston deals with the snow so poorly, and think about how we had more snow when I was a kid and had little problem dealing with it, I have to stop and remind myself: I grew up in a small town, in a rural state (in fact, in the most rural state). No sidewalks to clear. No fire hydrants. No public transit. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I grew up at a ski area; the more “natural” snow, the better for the resort, and indeed the better for the state’s tourism-dependent economy as a whole. And most people had at least one four-wheel-drive vehicle, and were neither rich nor dumb enough to try driving a sportscar in a foot of snow.

Even down here in Massachusetts, in parallel with warmer winters has come huge pressure to limit “unnecessary” government spending and to keep people like “idle” snowplow operators and “excess” firefighters off state and local payrolls — and that means when we do by random chance have a colder and snowier winter than the modern norm, there aren’t necessarily the people required on the payroll to fix things in a timely manner. So give ’em a break: it’s the taxpayers who wanted it this way.

Meanwhile, I have some Spanish tortilla to make. And a cake. More next week. (Oh, and the ski area? They over-expanded while winters were getting warmer and went bankrupt shortly after my family moved down off the mountain. Under new ownership and less debt, they’re back in business now, but it’s still a close thing even during the good years.)

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