January 29, 2009
New employee orientation—
As the HR rep covers the school’s weather line, she mentions the forecast for sleet on Wednesday morning.
My imagination conjures colliding air masses, arctic expresses, and that most elusive ingredient – precipitation.
Rainy days turn Texas highways into a mess—bumper to bumper traffic and hazard lights blinking everywhere.
Now imagine sleet unleashed on these same hapless motorists, and we’re talking an automotive apocalypse.
And as I sit in the meeting, a smile slides from one corner of my mouth to the other as I imagine this city under the sheen of frozen precipitation
On Tuesday night the arctic blast blows through on cue.
I awake early, slipping a hand behind the blinds and feeling the icy sheet of glass. I then press my ear as close to the glass as I dare, and hear nothing, not even a sigh from the nearby highway.
Suddenly, for a moment, the highway breathes as a car goes by, and I think, “Sucker! There’s always some nut out on an icy road.”
Then the highway breathes again, and again and again. I freeze for a moment.
It’s then I realize the awful truth—I’m the sucker.
The weather line that inspires me Monday afternoon deflates me Wednesday morning.
I shower, eat breakfast, and drive to work.
And while waiting for a traffic light to turn green with my elbow propped against the icy window, I hear a chime. It’s my new car alerting me; the car comes equipped with a sophisticated computer. And bless its little silicon heart; it’s trying to warn me.
A green, blocky message reads: “ICE POSSIBLE.’
©2009 Kent Gutschke. All rights reserved.
MARTIAN DEATH RAY 