Snow Blower Angels

As some of you may know we’ve gotten a ridiculous amount of snow here this winter. My shoveling protocol dictates that I address the most recent snowfall by:

  1. Shovel for ten minutes
  2. Rest for an hour
  3. Shovel for ten minutes
  4. Rest for two hours
  5. Shovel for ten minutes
  6. Hope that this is enough to clear the essential walkways and finish the rest tomorrow.

Our most recent snowstorm blew in here last night and the reason I have the energy to make this post is because the snow blower angel on the north side of our block cleared the front walks of the block up to the middle of my front walk, while the one on the south side cleared the block’s walks up to exactly the same spot. Apparently through a spoken or more probably by an unspoken agreement (the most important things which are needed to be communicated ain’t done with words) are coordinating. They’ve done this after every major snow storm this winter (about a half dozen of em) and I like to think that they know that the longest tenured resident of their block, by probably about 30 years, is grateful sometimes close to the point of tears.

Last year I was out shoveling after one of the late season godawful wet heavy snow storms. It didn’t go well. After about six or eight minutes of my planned ten minute session and after hacking up half a lung I had to give it up and struggle my way back in the house for a rest. BTW “struggle” means take one step up the steps, stop for a second or two, take the next step until you at the top and hold tight to the railing. There were a couple of young – middle age family guys shoveling their walks across the street.

Anyways I got into the house took my hour rest which turned out to be closer to an hour and a half and got ready to try again. Damned if my entire walk wasn’t cleared including the steps I struggled up. I visualize that a couple or more those guys watched me go back into the house, they both noticed that each of them was watching the same thing, gave each other what we’ll call the “Minnesota Nod”, walked across the street and probably in about five minutes cleared out what I hoped to and probably wouldn’t have been able to during the course of entire days effort.

Without being asked being asked and without asking for thanks they bailed my ass out. They didn’t know if I was a good and deserving person or a terrible person. Shit, for all they knew I was just hamming it up to sucker them into shoveling my walk. But they done it anyways and it wouldn’t shock me if they didn’t even know each others names, and that they finished up their shoveling and wordless ‘conversation’ with a Minnesota Nod.

Let’s just say that I am enjoying my evening by curtailing my cognitive functionality (I hope Slappy is okay and wish he’d come back here) and won’t make a fool of myself by waxing on about it, but ask you what is it that makes us do shit like that?

Of course that brings me to my point.

GGGGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

TWWWWWIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What is the kindest thing that’s been done to you by somebody who didn’t even know your name?

What players are on your team that you think would help an elderly neighbor without having to be asked and would prefer that there not be no cameras around when they did? I betcha  that if Joe Mauer lived across the street from me I’d never have to touch a snow shovel again, and probably Trevor May too, and maybe Sexy Maxie, but he best stay away from me for his own good.

 

27 thoughts on “Snow Blower Angels

  1. My parents were kind enough to take me home, feed me and keep me warm after my bus had arrived at that awful, sterile hospital station. (They couldn’t agree on my name until two weeks later.) As for the second question, I don’t have a favorite team this time of year. I let them take as long as they need (sometimes until September) to sort themselves out—into plausible contender who has endearing qualities, and the chaff (or the hated chaff, in the usual case of some teams from the Bronx). And then there are the Feeesh, who I might be able to like if only they could learn to play baseball correctly and got rid of that darn Honker in the front office.

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    1. I don’t know your name or where to go to to help shovel your snow. But I do know that you are a hugely intelligent and sincere human being.

      I believe that you deserve to believe in yourself. You are likely to out live me. Do good.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Relax, the Feesh aren’t going to learn to play baseball for some time yet. Curtis Granderson was their big orfseason acquisition. His BA is – ready? – .125 and he looks like a tired old man, a field in which I specialize.

      This is a team of soft pink rookies and battered veterans. Not only is the Gopher King erratic to begin with, he’s pitching with a partially torn UCL that’s just about ready to go sproiiiinnnggggg. There are some good looking kids in the rotation and boolpen but the rest of this team is going to endure some “growing pains” akin to amputations sans anaesthesia (here, bite down on this catcher’s mitt). What with a massive teardown and rebuild of both expressways usable to access Macondo Banana Massacre Field this summer (and for the next four years), look for the Feesh to challenge the St. Louis browns for worst attendance in history this season.

      By the way, if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been (because of course you have), I’ve been busy editing two books of critical essays, traveling to far flung and exotic places like Albuquerque, Laredo and (shortly) New York, Boston and in July, Madrid, to give lectures, deliver papers and solicit material for another book. Wears you out just to read this, don’t it? And they call this “retirement.” To hell with them.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Wow, hadn’t heard about the road construction, but the team’s battered veterans are soon to become deep-fried, methinks. (And kudos for correctly spelling the long version of what they often just call ABQ in the Land of Enchantment.)

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        1. Spelling Albuquerque correctly is one thing… not taking a left turn there when you should have is quite another… as Bugs Bunny taught us many times over the years. Who knows where you could end up. Be careful out there, Gator.

          Liked by 1 person

  2. By the way, re: that long layoff we recently weathered here (nearly two weeks between new posts?), what are the likes of us non-posters to do when we suspect foul play (or foul balls) have befallen those who write the posts here? I mean, in case someone was perilously stranded in their home because of a heavy winter sto….oh, wait. Never mind. Welcome back—now get out there and play ball.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. No, it wasn’t two weeks ago it was a little over one. I know I put up the last two and it took a little bit of effort, you know in between the foul balls.

      I’d like to see you become a poster. I figure you got plenty to say and if you want I’ll sober up enough to get you in touch with Scouts the founder and CEO of this site. We could probably use the help.

      Liked by 2 people

        1. Hey eckxforthehall

          I just emailed Scouts who runs this show that you’d like to start posting here. Send him an email at Fan Interference fan.interference@yahoo.com and let him know that you’d like to be able to start posting here and whatever else you want to say. It’d be good if you could drop a comment here letting me know you saw this.

          Hope to see you on board soon.

          Liked by 1 person

        1. I just heard back from Scouts. You in bro. All he needs is an email address to get you setup

          If you haven’t used Word Press before and could use some help you can either let me know in a comment of any of my recent posts or we can privately exchange email addresses through Scouts.

          BTW my real name, like Gator, is Rick ,,,.

          Hey everybody, we got new blood!

          WWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

          Liked by 1 person

  3. First things first: Lucas Davenport never mentioned the Minnesota Nod so I’m thinking you made that up.

    Too many random acts of kindness to count. We have a van that picks up seniors to bring them to the municipal senior center (where I work). One lady was late making the request for a ride recently. I called the driver’s call and got her picked up. Later that morning the sweet woman chased me down and gave me a little piece of cake in a Ziplock. That was sweet! And she is too!

    Now as to players I too have my faves but I prefer to keep my fantasies that they are good people – they may not actually be nice IRL so I enjoy the probability (possibly) that they are good people until proven otherwise. The same with our posters here on FI. I choose to believe that we are all as intelligent and benevolent at home as we are here in our shared community.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You’d think this would become increasingly common with the rise in ADD/ADHD among the screenfed generation, but apparently they like playing baseball enough to actually pay attention most of the time. Even here he barely got caught.

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    1. That was great! It was about the least effective fake throw I e ever seen! Ball player casualness (unwritten rule #42) demands a certain insouciance (somebody ask Old Gator if I used that word correctly) but the first base coach was looking straight at the dugout and wondering why his manager hates him and his wife left him and his cat won’t use the litterbox (because YOU’RE AN IDIOT!)

      Liked by 2 people

  4. Update: This afternoon I was having trouble moving our 1991 Dodge Caravan out of its parking place to the other side of the street in response to the requirements of our current snow emergency. A college age member of the Hispanic family living next door to us skating along the ice glaze now coating everybody’s front side walk in his seasonally inappropriate tennis shoes cheerfully offered his help. After some shoveling and pushing and rocking and rolling we got the proud old vehicle moving. As I drove down to a spot on the block to turn it around so I could park it on the non ticktictable side of the street I saw him take off, not waiting for me to thank him.

    That young man will not be falsely flattering himself if he ever someday says what goes around comes around.

    I

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