Black Ice

Last month smug northerners ridiculed the snowbound paralysis of Dallas.

"Maybe we should airlift Maine drivers down to the South to teach them how to drive in winter conditions," joked a friend at the 169 Bar in Chinatown..

"My grandfather once said, "There are two seasons in Maine, the season of good sledding and the season of bad sledding, but there is no winter anymore."

No one south of the Swanee River had ever entertained thoughts of good sledding or bad sledding, but it wasn't a question of snow.

The annual goal accumulation in Fulton County was from 2-5 inches.

The real problem was two-fold.

The governor of the Lone Star State advised his people not to worry.

"We have it covered."

And they might have, if the temperature at commuter departure time hadn't dropped to 7 degrees Fahrenheit, which froze the melting snow to black ice.

Black ice is a terror.

According to Wikipedia black ice, sometimes called clear ice, refers to a thin coating of glazed ice on a surface. While not truly black, it is virtually transparent, allowing black asphalt/macadam roadways or the surface below to be seen through it—hence the term "black ice".

Tires glide like hockey pucks on black ice.

In Atlanta, New York, Boston, or Montreal.

No one can drive on it.

Back in the winter 1974 I was hacking for Boston Cab to pay for my college tuition.

One frigid night I rounded the corner at the Christian Science Building to pick up a fare on Clearway Street. The rear of the Checker glided left and I corrected the veer with ease. The customer was waiting on the sidewalk at the end of the street. I rolled at a safe 5mph and tapped the brakes to stop, however the street was glazed by black ice and I passed the fare without losing speed. Directly in my path was a parked Boston Police cruiser in which sat two cops eating donuts. They saw my headlights. I pressed lightly on the brakes. The Checker slid into a slo-mo diagonal vector aimed at the driver's door.

Inertia took control and the cab stopped inches from the cop car.

My fare breathed easy in the back.

The officers shook their head.

I shrugged an apology and drove the customer to the 1270 Club on Boylston without a scratch.

So I understood the Dallas shutdown.

Them Texans can't drive for shit in the snow.

Black Ice

According to Wikipedia black ice, sometimes called clear ice, is a thin coating of glaze ice on a surface, especially on roads. The ice itself is not black, but visually transparent, allowing the often black road below to be seen through it. Eric Mitchell sent this photo of his skating across a frozen lake in the Berkshires. The ice looked as smooth as glass. I love pond hockey, but it has become as rare as black ice.

Dakota from the 169 Bar had heard my tale of skating on the sidewalks of the East Village in 1992. He laughed in disbelief, however the rock-n-roll bartender hailed from Tucson and no one from the desert knows anything about ice other than ice cubes for a drink.

This winter has been exceedingly mild with no snow. Maine was beset by a deep freeze and a circular floe of ice formed on the Presumpscot River upstream from the old SD Warren paper mill in Westbrook. Newspaper reported the phenomena as a galactic apparition. None of them have lived through a New England winter where trees in Aroostock County exploded in the arctic cold.

Another time I was driving taxi down Clearwater Street next to the Christian Science Mother Church in Boston. The asphalt of the back road was covered in black ice. I tapped on my brakes the the Checker Cab went into a side slide. Two Boston cops were eating donuts at the end of the block. The driver noticed my approach.

Slow and elegant.

He tried to pull ahead, but the cop cruiser’s rear tires caught no traction. Both officer watch in anticipation of a crash. The Checker stopped an inch from the cop car. All three of us smiled at each other.

Back in the 1970s ice was ice. Sometimes good and maybe times in the century of climate change not good.

Back in the 20th Century the ice was thick on Watchic Pond. Twelve inches thick.

Good for skating once the snow was shoveled off the surface, but nothing beat skating up 2nd Avenue. Nothing at all.

Liar Liar

Several evenings ago a friend accused me on lying.

He was backing another friend's accusation of my misrepresenting the truth in the telling a story about skating on black ice. Both said that I had claimed to have skated up 2nd Avenue after an ice storm had glazed Manhattan with black ice. Neither had ever worn skates, yet their other friend backed up their claim. I let it go. What does anyone from Arizona know about ice?

Today I heard more of the same.

"It was just a story."

Johnny said, "It was a lie."

"A lie."

"Up to you."

"How can I trust you if you tell lies?"

"Don't trust me then."

I shrugged off the abuse, recognizing it for collective bullying.

All stories are true if interesting.

Black Ice

Yesterday smug northerners ridiculed the snowbound paralysis of Atlanta.

"There was only two inches of snow," sneered Jon Stewart of Comedy Central.

'Maybe we should airlift Maine drivers down to the South to teach them how to drive in winter conditions," joked a friend at Frank's Lounge.

My grandfather once said, "There are two seasons in Maine, the season of good sledding and the season of bad sledding."

No one south of the Swanee River ever entertained thoughts of good sledding or bad sledding, but it wasn't a question of snow.

The goal accumulation in Fulton County was from 2-5 inches.

The real problem was two-fold.

The mayor of Atlanta and the governor of the Peach Tree State advised their people not to worry.

"We have it covered."

And they might have, if the temperature at commuter departure time hadn't dropped to 7 degrees Fahrenheit, which froze the melting snow to black ice.

Black ice is a terror.

According to Wikipedia black ice, sometimes called clear ice, refers to a thin coating of glazed ice on a surface. While not truly black, it is virtually transparent, allowing black asphalt/macadam roadways or the surface below to be seen through it—hence the term "black ice".

Tires glide like hockey pucks on black ice.

In Atlanta, New York, Boston, or Montreal.

No one can drive on it.

Back in the winter 1974 I was hacking for Boston Cab to pay for my college tuition.

One frigid night I rounded the corner at the Christian Science Building to pick up a fare on Clearway Street. The rear of the Checker glided left and I corrected the veer with ease. The customer was waiting on the sidewalk at the end of the street. I rolled at a safe 5mph and tapped the brakes to stop, however the street was glazed by black ice and I passed the fare without losing speed. Directly in my path was a parked Boston Police cruiser in which sat two cops eating donuts. They saw my headlights. I pressed lightly on the brakes. The Checker slid into a slo-mo diagonal vector aimed at the driver's door.

Momentum took control and the cab stopped inches from the cop car.

My fare sat in the back.

The officers shook their head.

I shrugged an apology and drove the customer to the 1270 Club on Boylston without a scratch.

So I understand the Atlanta shutdown.

Southerners can't drive for shit in the snow.