Thursday, January 13, 2011

Enemy Mine

Happiness is a Wednesday morning that begins with an invigorating one hour and forty-five minute exercise in the relocation of frozen precipitation from my driveway and sidewalk to areas that are neither of the above. Actually while I am not certain what it was that I was feeling by the time I finished my now-weekly chore of shoveling my driveway (this time courtesy of "Snowmageddon - Part II"), I am confident THAT it was not happiness. Delirium perhaps but then again, no.

Kudos to the Middlesex Boro DPW plow truck driver who - upon watching me shovel my driveway including the apron clear of snow - on not one but two separate occasions made certain to refill the apron with the snow he was clearing off of Decatur Avenue.......on not one but two occasions. There is nothing quite as much fun as moving a half-foot of snow at 4:00 a.m. except for - perhaps - having to do it over and over again. The notion of rewarding one of your residents who is up at dawn's ass crack and who is - in addition to clearing out his own personal piece of real estate - doing something that I am not in any way obligated to do such as clearing out the street and the curb around the fire hydrant that sits on the grass strip between my sidewalk and the curb - by not being a jagoff and dumping heavy snow to fill the space created by the light, fluffy snow I had already moved was apparently lost on Knuckles McDumbAss. Actually I do not believe his name was/is Knuckles McDumbAss. While it was dark (it was 4:00 a.m. after all) I am pretty sure that his uniform said, "Richard". At least I think I am pretty sure. Even though I do not know the man and it was therefore presumptuous of me to do so, when I hollered "Dick" he stopped the truck and turned his head towards me.

The first time he did it I simply dropped the F*** bomb on him and gave him a traditional Jersey salute. The second time he did it I asked why he seemed so dedicated to the cleanliness of the streets in my neighborhood after this snow-round when he and his DPW brethren treated us as if we lived across the boundary line in Bound Brook after Snowmageddon - The Original. Not a terribly conversant chap was he. Maybe the next time it snows, he will come back past my house and I shall get an answer to my question.

Boy do I love the town where I live. Each year, irrespective of the combination of earnest folks elected to the Boro Council, the local governing body manages to produce reduced services in exchange for increased property taxes. Perhaps if once - just once - the people elected to govern devoted themselves to the task at hand as opposed to looking to undercut each other and badmouth each other at every turn, something productive might actually get accomplished. Perhaps one day soon all of my hair will grow back over my lobotomy scar as well. Perhaps one day my brother Bill will actually get that pony too.

Among the reduced services for which my increased property taxes are not paying here in 2011 is twice-weekly garbage collection. For most of the year, my garbage is picked up by the (wait for it) Boro DPW two times a week. However, in the late Autumn the fancy of the young men who work for the DPW apparently turns to leaf pickup. Alas, something has to give. And someone has to give that something. In this scenario the someone is me and the something is my Friday trash pickup.

In years past the once-a-week trash pickup has lasted only from mid-November until Christmas. Not this year. This year we who call 'NTSG home are truly blessed. Since our DPW is going to be busy working on "special projects" we are not going to see a return of twice-weekly trash pickup until at least April. I read the article in the paper noting that the DPW Superintendent gave a general recitation to the Boro Council of the other projects that his men would be freed up to tackle thanks to the continuation of the once-weekly garbage pickup. Conspicuous by its absence was the, "Additional time to figuratively kick in the balls the residents whose taxes pay our salaries" Project. Curiously, in spite of its apparent status as an "under the radar" project I was nevertheless privy to a display of its full effect yesterday morning.

Just another day living in the Idiotocracy where Pogo rules........and where the rest of us battle over the short end of the stick.


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