If you told me that the world would end in either fire or ice, as Robert Frost has also pondered, I would not be surprised. Nor if you told me that the world would end with Apes becoming our masters or God showing up and telling us that the stuff we thought we knew was all wrong and that we would have to repeat it until we got it right.
What does surprise me, time and again, is that dopes like this drive around with snow on their windshield. The car appeared in the parking lot while I was having lunch out on the great tundra of Clarendon at the Silver Diner. Why wouldn’t someone take the extra five seconds to wipe off the snow instead of being a dangerous jerk to the rest of us?
This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs