* Authors note: self imposed warning here to help avoid any possible censorship and blocking of my internet blog, this post contains some language that may be considered offensive.
I though, asserting my constitutional right of true free speech, as a person, and individual registered voter, not a "corporation" with money to spew forth in mockery of the amendment, have written a story to entertain and humor the reader, in hopes that it will lift their spirit, touch their soul, impassion their heart and be a self-evident example of the value of true free speech.
Peace -
Now on with the story -
Ø Puddles –
When you step in a puddle and the water comes up to your ankle, is that still a “puddle” or does it become a “hole full of water”? And is a pothole only in a road – what about a parking lot? Paved = potholes and puddles, unpaved = a regular hole and puddles? Or is “pothole” reserved for any surface damaged by vehicular wear? I guess I think a puddle is more a low spot, a dip if you will, in the surface. You can have a puddle on a paved parking lot or an unpaved parking lot. You can have a puddle on a grass surface, a dirt surface, a concrete surface, a wooden surface, metal surface, even hard packed sand surface, any where there has either been enough saturation or an impermeable (nice word, huh?) surface. No matter what it’s called, stepping in one when you are not prepared to combat the moisture and/or do not expect the depth of the spot to be adverse to your situation – it really, really sucks!
Our parking lot at work (and a lot of others around here for that matter) look like fucking mine fields! These parking lots are beat to shit. Sign of the economic times I guess, nobody can afford to fix their lots and the weather takes its toll fast. When it rains, and it rains here a good deal, in fact as a point of reference, we moved to Lancaster PA from the beautiful Northwest, Seattle WA where everyone knows it rains. But, as a matter of Famers Almanac fact – this area of PA, the fertile Susquehanna Valley gets approximately 45.17 inches of rain a year, Seattle gets 37.07 – this is on average over the last thirty years. The difference, and it’s a big one, is when it rains here it really rains, you might get an inch or more rain in a hour or so, where in Seattle it might “rain” all day and barely measure a half inch so you don’t get puddles really, damp surfaces, moisture and a few wet spots, but not a bunch of puddles. Here, when it rains there are usually puddles in the first 15 minutes!
So here, you are going to either navigate puddles or step in something and get wet, unless you have on some sort of waterproof footwear. Women, girls, you I believe have the advantage of those neat designer print rubber boots, those with flowers, and leopard prints, or a neat tartan plaid, or poke-a-dots, or solid yellow, red, blue, pink or black. You can wear these incorporated into your work or casual look and be just fine. A fashion choice. Guys on the other hand, don’t for the most part fit this style model – most, I said, and no judgment here, some guys can pull that off because they have that hip fashion style, a la Nautica, American Eagle, Ralph Lauren. An L.L.Bean boot maybe, but those aren’t all rubber up past your ankle. Also, women will not think twice about a change of footwear especially in inclement weather, guys on the other had (idiots) just can’t get their head around that concept. But a fashionable waterproof boot choice, that isn’t for most guys and certainly not around here. If I wore something like that I’d look like a dumb-ass, old-man-schlep with “girl” boots on! So instead, like a dumb-ass schlep, I just wear my business dress shoes, or whatever, and try to negotiate the terrain as not to step in a spot deeper than one quarter inch.
So picture this, imagine one of those aerial photos of the Florida marshes, or the African plains after a torrential downpour, can you picture those few and sporadic dry spots of high ground? Imagine it. Now picture our parking lot in that manner, little islands of high ground, and winding irregular ridges of area connecting safe passage through the mass of low, expansive, wet, menacing puddles. Now picture me (having of course to park at the far fucking end of this obstacle course of pavement because there is never anything up front), me, carrying my computer bag (too bulky and over stuffed with crap I really don’t need to lug around), me, carrying a travel cup of coffee, and me if I remembered it, carrying an umbrella, wandering and weaving about on a maze-like path for probably a quarter fucking mile trying to avoid stepping in a puddle, pothole or canyon of water in my stupid low-soled, non-waterproof, business dress shoes. What an idiot! If it wasn’t so pathetic it would be funny! But at the time I’m not laughing, I’m pissed that the parking lot is a minefield of water hazards. It’s Nature’s fault, and the Property Managers fault, that I’m getting soaked and now have wet feet and I’m only half way to the door. Hell, car-door to office-door of eighty yards in a straight walk. I’ve been schlepping about for a minute and a half, only half way there, when I finally decide fuck it, and just walk straight to the door stepping in every puddle, hole, pond, lake, I can, just stomping through them, splashing about, kicking water every which way. And now I find myself smiling! Not smiling like an idiot smiling, but smiling because I remember what fun I used to have as a kid going to school and intentionally stepping and jumping in every puddle I could, arriving a wet, dripping, happy mess, and happy at the fun of it.
But I’m not an elementary school kid anymore, I’m a “business man” (ha) – I think I’m gonna go get a pair of those cool boots, maybe the green ones with the little frog face and ears at the toe and I’m gonna enjoy what comes, hell or high water!