On this date in 1997, my wife and I acquired a new snow thrower. It didn't come with any instructions, was under 10 lbs, and for 14 years we have been at a complete loss as to how to make any use of it. It has always started very easily, but never got much done. It consumed vast amounts of fuel, made a tremendous noise at random intervals, created unimaginable messes, and spontaneously spewed crap out of both ends. Amazingly, this snow thrower produces more gas than it consumes.
It's not like we had never had a snow thrower before. We had a 1986 and a 1987 model. Both are very good looking models, but neither would throw snow at all.
Last night, we got 18 inches of wet, heavy snow. It's the middle aged fat man killing snow. I expect to see two or three of my neighbours laid out dead as door knobs from heart attacks brought on by shovelling this shit. But not me. I have a snow thr
ower.After 14 years of wondering how to operate this thing, my snow thrower started up this morning. It just took some bacon and some biscuits and gravy and magicaly it cleared the driveway. I didn't have to coax it. I didn't have to threaten it. I didn't have to do anything other than just get started.
So now, I sit in warm comfort sipping a Mimosa and blogging while my 14 year old snow thrower digs tunnels in the mountains of snow. I'm afraid that I'll only have the use of the snow blower another 4 or 5 years. After that, I'm afraid he'll be stolen away by a pretty girl, or distant job.
A friend emailed my yesterday that he and his wife are expecting a baby in August. I paused for a minute, and remembered a magical day in 1997, when the Packers won the Superbowl, and my new snow thrower arrived. He wasn't very big. Hell, I've caught Catfish bigger than him.
