At least we didn't call in the army: Part II

I have a sore throat and feel like I am coming down with something so I should probably be in bed instead of in front of the computer.

But I couldn’t sleep without one last comment on Vancouver’s weather. What is this? The North Pole or something?

The snow and ice are still here. Mainly because we don’t have the equipment or complex knowledge required to get rid of it. But also because it’s still cold. This is beyond abnormal. This is biblical. Right up there with locusts and dust storms in the desert and stuff.

It never snows in Vancouver. Until last week, when it snowed and kept right on snowing for days. What is this? Winnipeg or something?

It’s too dangerous to ride my bike to work, which means I’ve been taking the bus. Or more accurately, I’ve been taking one crowded bus to Granville Street, where I transfer to another crowded bus, to travel the five kilometres from my downtown apartment to the Kitsilano office.

The trip takes 45 minutes, during which time I’m cheek-to-jowl with coughing, sneezing commuters who teeter like bowling bins every time the drunk* bus driver slams on the brakes.

[*We are experiencing an endemic of drunk bus drivers in Vancouver. Two bus drivers were fired for being drunk on the job during the past two months. Drunk bus drivers and winter weather have been making front-page headlines out here. It’s all anyone can talk about. Including me.]

Anyway, I blame the bus for making me sick. I blame the Arctic cold front for making me take the bus. And I blame the Arctic for giving us the Arctic cold front.

Oh sure, it was fun for a while. The spontaneous snowball fights and snowman population explosion left us giddy. But the initial attraction has faded and left Vancouverites with the ugly truth – we’re not ready for a real relationship with winter. It’s time to end this.