So, I’m sitting on the couch in my living room. I’m looking out of the window at the street that runs in front of my house. The clear street. The dry street. The bone-dry street. The Sahara Desert-dry street. The vermouthless martini dry street. The I get cotton-mouth from looking at it-dry street. Excuse me while I get some water…
There, that’s better. In any event, it snowed here yesterday afternoon. It wasn’t a lot where I live, only about 2 inches. They cancelled school today. OK, no problem. I was on the streets at about 6:15 this morning and they were a little treacherous (yes, for my northern friends, 2 inches of snow can be a little treacherous in a state that has 4 plows for the entire state). I had to work but my wife (she had no school, either) and kids had a blast.
The sun shone brightly today. The temperature reached 40 degrees. All of the streets around where I live are now dry. I think I’ve mentioned that already. Imagine my shock and surprise when I learned, while surfing Facebook, that the public school district has already cancelled tomorrow’s classes. Cancelled. Not even delayed. Cancelled. No school. At all. Period.
Now I understand that ours is a large school district — the biggest in the state as a matter of fact. I also understand that our district covers some diverse topography, from mountains to foothills to piedmont. But you see, I can see my kids’ school from my front porch. With solid footing, I can throw my kids to school and land them within 5 feet of the front door (with a good tailwind, I can throw them both at the same time and get them within 10 feet). Not that I would need to tomorrow, because you see, the streets between my house and the school are clear and dry. Remember? I could drive them there. Or walk them there. Or crawl with them there without getting wet…on the dry streets.
Sure, I guess in the grand scheme of things, there is some logic to calling off school tomorrow. There are areas in our district that got twice as much snow as we did around my house. There are a lot of rural areas in our district. Nevertheless, as I look across the vast, desert, asphalt landscape between here and school, I can’t help but being a little perplexed…and I admit, jealous. I have to work tomorrow. I think I’ll ride the camel. I’m going to go give him some water now.