First Time Rider

    Rush hour loomed. The expressway bunched up. Our driver (above) bypassed the congestion by cutting through South Boston. His detour succeeded. He delivered us on time to a downtown appointment. And so ended my first ride in an Uber taxi.
    Ride sharing services are new. They’re popular with riders. But they’re controversial. Traditional cabbies deplore them. Some municipal governments are cracking down.
     New services and new inventions often encounter resistance. A caveman invented the wheel. He probably got laughed at. But not for long. Hauling things around became easier. Next came horse drawn carts. Then came automobiles, and taxis, and Uber.
     Inventions appear, resistance follows, and inventions prevail. The late Robert Kennedy better summed it up: ‘Progress is a nice word. But change is its motivator. And change has its enemies.’

Less at Stake

      Citizens are encouraged to shovel out fire hydrants near their homes. Some people cooperate, others do not.
     While strolling through a neighborhood, I happened upon a snow covered hydrant. Right away, I sensed why nobody had cleared away the snow. Across the road stood an apartment building. Renters lived there, not homeowners.
     Renters have less at stake in a town than do home owners. I know this disconnect from experience. For much of my adult life, I rented an apartment in another town. I never felt a strong connection with that community. I did, however, involve myself with the Catholic parish.
     My lasting connection has remained with my hometown. I have since moved back there, residing in a house.
     Last week I shoveled out a fire hydrant.

Admonitories

     “I can’t eat that.” The thought occurred this week while visiting a supermarket. I had noticed free samples of cheese.
     Two days later I headed toward the kitchen in my home. I was hungry for a sandwich. A similar thought popped into my head. “I can’t eat baloney.”
      The first thought came on Ash Wednesday, a day of fasting in the Catholic tradition. The second thought dinged my cranium on a Friday. Eating meat on that day is prohibited during Lent.
     These thoughts—seemingly out of the blue—have struck during previous Lenten seasons. On one such occasion, a cheeseburger was halfway into my mouth when the thought came through.
     Where do these thoughts—or reminders—come from?
     One explanation is scientific. Our neurological system, in its complexity, pumps out reminders when temptation threatens.
     The other explanation is supernatural. A spiritual being, either God himself or a representative, conveys these admonitories.
     I can’t say for sure, but I think these reminders come from a spiritual being. For that reason, they hint at the existence of God.

First Snow, Now Water

     Plastic containers are our latest defense against winter’s fury.
     Ice dams are to blame. They’re clogging gutters on the roof. Meltwater is pooling, working its way through shingles, and seeping downward between walls. Some of this water is dripping on window sills, hence the containers. Six locations in the house have been impacted.
     Our problem isn’t rare. Lots of people are dealing with this onslaught. Knowing we’re not the only ones facing this predicament makes a difference.
     Misery is less miserable when misery is shared.

Seventy Plus and Counting

     We’re under siege by Mother Nature.
     A wall of snow encroaches on our driveway. I worry about running out of space for the car.
    Dams of ice clog the gutters. Our garage roof supports a massive accumulation of the white stuff. Tomorrow I’ll climb the roof with a shovel.
     I’ve never contended with so much snow. The stuff isn’t melting. Another blizzard looms two days away.
     Elsewhere in the neighborhood, people operate snow blowers. Others folks hire drivers with plows.
     I’m probably the only person in this neighborhood who still clears snow with only a shovel. A thought keeps crossing my mind. For next winter, should I buy a snow blower?
     The notion goes against my nature. I’m a minimalist. Fewer possessions mean less clutter.
     A shovel is the antithesis of clutter. It’s operation is simple. It doesn’t require maintenance. It hangs on a garage wall.
     A snow blower adds to clutter. It requires maintenance. It won’t fit in the garage. A shed—yet another material possession—would be needed.
    But a snow blower is great at clearing snow, a form of clutter.
    People stick to their ideals until a disruption strikes. Seventy plus inches of snow represents a disruption.

Not So Blue

    Heavy duty lifting. Every day I’ve shoveled snow—tons of snow—from my driveway. We’ve had more snow fall in one week than what normally accumulates during an entire winter. And now the temperatures are plunging to minus zero.
     Cabin fever is taking hold. We’ve been a tad grumpy toward each other.
     I’m sick and tired of winter.
     While driving in a nearby town, I hit the brakes. An intriguing sight caught my eye.
    My winter blues melted away at the sight of icicles.

Talking to Strangers

     A Girl Scout sold cookies outside a supermarket. The day was cold. Perhaps her fortitude generated sales from passersby.
    For as long as I can remember, Girl Scouts have knocked on doors to sell cookies. I’ve purchased their peanut butter ones. The girls accomplished more than raising money for their troops. They gained self confidence. It’s took courage for a child to approach a stranger.
    Now the Scouts are also selling online.This approach, I’ve read, keeps the girls relevant. Doing so probably boosts sales.
    I’d rather the girls conducted their sales exclusively in person. That way, they’d converse face to face with people they don’t know.
    Talking to strangers builds confidence.