As many already know the Northeast was ruthlessly pummeled by an ugly winter storm with the adorable name, Nemo.
The facts of Nemo (chart from The New York Times).
I woke Saturday morning, looked outside my Upper West Side brownstone’s window, and saw that the back yard was inundated with snow for the first time in almost two years. A tree that I had never seen before in my life was hanging on a fence.
Look closely, some romantic drew a heart in the snow on the table at the bottom of this image.
I mentioned this mystery tree in an email exchange with my devoted reader, Mike G. He suggested:
Mike G. email: Tree may have come from Long Island. It was very windy.
Me email: Yeah, I was thinking Jersey.
Mike G. email: Wind was coming from ocean. Definitely Nassau County.
With the fallen mystery tree situation solved I decided to venture outside to assess the snowfall up close and personally. Unlike other areas along the Eastern seaboard, New York City escaped the storm with a mere dusting. Only 11.4 inches of snow were measured in Central Park, not what had accumulated overnight in the two abandoned shopping carts from my go-to market, Fairway.
The Lame Adventure method of measuring snowfall in Manhattan.
As expected, life was relatively normal in my neighborhood, as normal as can be under a blanket of heavy snow. Sidewalks were shoveled and West End Avenue was plowed. There were also the obvious signs that dogs were being walked.
No one eat that.
Children were sledding in Riverside Park.
Good time to be a kid with a sled.
The sky was clear and vibrant blue.
Good time to be the sky.
There were also some sorry sights including bikes buried deeply, piles of uncollected trash and vehicles that were plowed in.
At least the seat will be dry.
Frozen bagged trash waiting for collection.
Vehicles on West End Avenue plowed in to a manageable degree.
Digging out this vehicle on a side street might induce a heart attack.
It is unclear when the sanitation department will surface to pick up the piles of trash that were put out for collection Friday in anticipation of the regularly scheduled Saturday morning pick-up. A pick-up that has yet to happen. I can understand why trash is put outside on Friday even though the forecast anticipated this monumental weather event and it was the top story on every newscast, major and minor. There are times when the forecast is wrong, or the Armageddon-type weather event turns out to be flaccid. This robust storm’s forecast was one that the meteorologists nailed. Now, my neighborhood’s streets are strewn with mountains of frozen garbage buried deep in snow.
Partially buried trash for recycling.
Buried frozen bags of trash are not such an unusual sight in winter, but what I find irksome is the sight of fresh garbage the neighborhood knuckleheads toss over the frozen garbage creating further clutter on city sidewalks.
“I don’t care that it snowed almost a foot! I want this mattress out of the house now!”
We just had an epic snowstorm that dumped nearly a foot of snow on the city. Is it really necessary to respond to it with taking out the esoteric junk lying around the apartment right now, this very minute? The esoteric junk owners likely had this stuff for years already.
“Put this table out when the neighbor’s aren’t looking.”
What’s so traumatic about keeping it inside and out of sight another few days, or at least until trash collection returns to regularly scheduled programming? I’m all for de-cluttering, but I’m also capable of resisting the urge to hold off on doing my spring-cleaning until spring, or even holding off doing it until spring 2014. What’s the rush? Clearing out the clutter the morning after a major winter weather event strikes me as just Type A, for asshole.
“Hey look, I found Granny’s old wheelchair! Put it outside or what?”
Lame Adventures 