My commute was re-routed this morning by what appears to have been a rather significant wreck on Route 98. There's no mention of it on the local news sites, which is a shame, because I'm very curious about what kind of accident would bring out at LEAST 4 fire trucks and 5 or so paramedics. I waited in a long line of cars that inched their way toward the scene, only to find that there was no way we were getting through the wreckage to continue our commutes.
Dang. A golden opportunity for some prime grade-A gross-out missed.
On the other thrilling news front: Yesterday evening there was some kind of commotion going on at the building 'next door' to the Tiny House. A fire truck was over there with a boom extended out to the third floor of the converted mill-turned-apartments. A supposition was made by a friend that maybe it was time for the 700-pound-resident's trip to the doctor, which would have been awesome to watch (but maybe not smell), and so we went over to have a peek at what was going on. Would there be smoke? Would there be flames? Would there be a mountain of human soon to come oozing over the windowsill? And if the last one, why would they be taking them out on a boom that MUST have some kind of weight limit on it? Would there be a horrible disaster when the crane arm collapsed, sending Mister Giganto and the compassionate firemens hurtling toward the blacktop? Who would hit first? What would it be like to land on a horrifically obese person? Would the shock-absorbing value of all that fat save you from certain death? Would it be really gross?
The potential for excitement was incredible.
And soon deflated...because once I was convinced to go over and GAWK rather than simply stay on the back deck making make wild suppositions about what might be going on, it was clear that the fire truck was on a training mission.
Stupid rookie firepeople, needing to learn to operate the town's crane truck. Stupid amateurs, all lounging around in their stupid tee shirts, watching crews of three or four work their way through the primer on 'how to haul a half-ton man out of his apartment should there be a fire.' I was all het up for an EMERGENCY, and now, once convinced to go take a closer look (which I shied away from, not wanting to appear to be nosy and all), I wanted some reward for my bravery!
Gah!
And then this morning happened. Not even a HINT of mayhem was to be had. Stupid police officer, turning us all around when we'd waited in line to see the aftermath. No fair. I pay taxes to support those rescue crews, I should be able to watch them at work if I want to!
Right? Shouldn't we be allowed to mill around fires and accidents and crime scenes, evaluating how our public servants are doing? Shouldn't we be encouraged to hang out at DOT work sites, urging our tax-money-paid workers to hurry up, time's-a-wasting, get off those shovels and work, ya bastards?
I suggest that we should. What do YOU think?
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Also - had some friends over for dinner last night. THEY brought the dinner. And beer. And wine. They did most of the grilling. Either they're really really generous, or they hate my cooking.
I can live with it, either way.
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Y'all! This Thursday! You know what you have to do.
Thurs it like a mofo, and have a great day.
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