Blizzards, Trampedes and The Whole Truth 

The stories in this column are true. Averett lives a dull life in rural Southside Virginia with his wife Management, two children and a rotating assortment of goats, dogs, cats, snakes and other local fauna.

Original Run Date:
February 11, 2010

We are having a blizzard and I have been riding around in Slight Si, my little minivan and counting the fools who are out driving around in the snow. Including me there have been 47 so far. On the other hand, I have pulled six of the other fools out of ditches and snow banks, so although I may be a fool, I am a helpful and possibly useful fool.  You can’t tell by looking that Slight Si has four-wheel drive so I look like more of a fool than I am.

I also broke one of my longstanding precepts which is never go in a grocery store when a storm is predicted or in progress.  If you think driving in the snow is dangerous, just try shopping.  If you don’t get trampeded  (trampled in a stampede) or stompel’d (trampled and stomped), you might get mugged in the parking lot for that gallon of milk.

Speaking of which, will somebody tell me exactly what folks are doing with all of that milk, eggs and bread. It has to be something kinky; nobody uses that much milk.  If it is kinky I want to know so I can play too.

Whatever happens we won’t starve. There is always something in our pantry. We might have to eat rice and beans for a few days but we won’t starve. If we run out of rice and beans there are always Riley O. Riley O’Riley and Missy, our golden retrievers.

 On the other hand, we were out of dog and cat food and the critters don’t do well on beans. I feel certain the dogs and especially the cats have fewer morals and less attachment to me than I have to them.  After a day or so they would be thinking, “That old guy has been nice to have around but I’ll bet he would taste better than these beans.”

So purely in the interest of self-preservation I went to the store. You can see what folks think are necessities in a blizzard.  The milk, eggs and bread shelves were empty. There was a big dent in the beer, soft drinks, cigarettes and junk food. The pet food shelves were almost empty proving there are more folks than I who question the loyalty of their pets.

Oddly, most of the compost was gone.  There were only a couple of heads of cauliflower, no lettuce, no peppers, no toadstools and no celery.  Those vegetable-terians are in more trouble than I, and their dogs are safe.

I was shocked at the response to last week’s column.  I wasn’t shocked that many readers thought I had dragged a live bear from a tree, took it home and put it in the dog pen.  That would have been a reasonable thing to do if I encountered a live bear just waiting to be caught.

In spite of the fact they had been warned “all of the truth was not included” and that “I was checking to see if they had been paying attention” they assumed the bear was alive.  I had intentionally left out the “dead” that could have preceded the word bear. I did say the bear had been hanging on that limb for months, which should have indicated at the least a low energy level.

What shocks and concerns me is that these folks thought I would confess to committing an illegal act punishable by fines and imprisonment BEFORE the statue of limitations had expired.  As I often say, “I may look dumb and I may act dumb and I may be dumb BUT I’m not stupid.”

On the other hand, one of my friends claims that I was stupid to tell the “snake in the purse” story.  He thinks that even after forty years the guys who stole that purse (and snake) may still be looking for me and plotting revenge.

Another of my friends has recently advanced the theory that when I was chasing the bear that was eating my bees through the woods I was barefooted and possibly less than fully clothed.  I don’t know why he would draw that conclusion other than the fact that bears eating bees do not make appointments or give the competition a grace period to get dressed.

His version is that to avoid being aesthetically scarred, he always makes noise coming down our driveway to avoid such an occurrence.  I think that is wise. You never know when another bear will show up to eat my bees.