Thought That Came Unbidden

I don’t know what snowfall sounds like in empty places. It’s quite possible it’s unremarkable as in the city it isn’t so much the sound of snowfall as the sounds it stops that cause me to pause. DC is not a town that deals well with snow. This isn’t surprising given that we don’t normally get actual snow; instead we get freezing slush that I would lay down good money often falls from the sky in a brown, icky mess designed specifically to leave stains on the cuffs of your pants as it not-quite-melts in the gutters.

This past week we’ve had snow, actual, honest to god flakes that are as light as a feather and too dry to make snowballs with. Wednesday was like being trapped in a snow-globe, big fat flakes swirling around in no discernible patterns pushed along by the wind. And though Saturday was much the same when it came to the actual precipitation, the effect was different. The city stopped.

DC stopping for snow isn’t unusual; indeed, if a weather forecaster here even mentions the s-word your chances of finding white bread, kitty litter, or milk in any area grocery store are about the same as, well, a snowball’s chance of survival in hell. But often, the business of the city continues unabated. UPS trucks come and go, buses roar along, albeit not on any published schedule, and life proceeds if only a bit tentatively and foreshortened to account for a commute filled with the panic of drivers who don’t realize that the first step in slowing a vehicle is not to jam on the brake but is, in fact, to take your foot off the accelerator. Snow on a Saturday, free from the complications of school closings and the waiting to see if the penny pinchers at OPM will close the government since your office follows the Fed in terms of inclement weather policy, gives us a chance to slow down.

Snow on a Saturday is an excuse to simply be, right now, because nothing else is moving and you can’t really go anywhere. The way it changes the landscape makes me pause and look around as familiar shapes take on slightly softer silhouettes against a snow-gray sky. The soft hiss of frozen water hitting the ground is like a lullaby or a mantra, taking me back to a time when playing and learning were the most important things I had to do, when following the rules was less important than laughing.

And even if I have to shovel, it’s still worth it to have a bit of peace and quiet in this information mad world we call the 21st century.

We have a quart of “fat free” half & half in the refrigerator at my office. Let’s think about this for a minute.

The premise of half & half is that it is half cream and half whole milk, right? Whole milk, as we all know from a zillion years of grocery shopping, is rated at 4% butterfat, hence the explosion of low and non-fat milks (2%, 1%, 1/2%, skim). Light cream, the other traditional ingredient in half & half, is rated at about 20% butterfat. Regular half & half works out to about 10 /12 to 15 percent butterfat.

So, explain to me then how fat-free half & half is any different from skim milk?

Once again, marketing triumphs over substance.

DC is a really small city. As I sit here in my living room shamelessly surfing the internet over a wireless network, I find I’m wondering what that huge booming noise is.

I look outside, no, no cannon rolling up the street. No invading army jack-booting their way up my block.

Turn on the news and what do I see but a report about the end of the inaugural concert on the elipse that includes, yes, Virginia, fireworks. I can hear ’em but I sure can’t see ’em.

There’s an emperor’s new clothes sort of lesson in here but I’ll be damned if I can find it.

NPR reported on All Things Considered today that the United States’ task force has officially called off the search for weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. The report also included the White House’s rationalization that the war in Iraq was justified because of Saddam Hussein’s “intent” to procure such weapons. Let’s take this logic to its natural conclusion.

Saddam’s intent was to procure weapons which morally and ethically justifies invading the country he leads getting thousands of soldiers and civilians killed in the process.

So, intent, in this universe, becomes the primary motivator in making decisions. It is, in fact, more important than actual actions.

To take this line of “logic” to it’s natural conclusion, I would, then, be allowed to kill someone who looked at me the wrong way because it was clear, to me anyway, that his intent was to do me harm so, in reality, my actions are not homicide but self defense.

Are you buying this?

The logic is perfect but the conclusion is completely and utterly wrong. It just makes me wonder when we stopped thinking.

* Travis Bickle’s “Are you talking to me?” monologue in Taxi Driver not only made Robert De Niro famous it also epitomizes the Bush administration’s thought process.

Read Mark Morford’s resolutions for 2005. You won’t be sorry.