February 9, 2013

Gloucester, MA. March, 2005

I like snow when it’s decorative. When it’s inconvenient, not so much. As I write this, the blizzard named Nemo is bearing down on New England, promising forecasts of some two feet or more of snow. Of course, the storm-panicked zombies have descended upon the supermarkets, clearing shelves with the biblical voracity of locusts. Ditto the fuel at gas stations. How did we get like this? I blame TV.

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