Don't You Know, I Will Cut YOU?!

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2003-04-09

10:58 a.m.

January 3, 1999

The people of Detroit were literally stuck in their homes for almost four days straight, without any hope of being plowed out or assisted by the city. Fucking city.

This is my account of the first couple days.

Well I never thought it would happen. I was actually snowed in for a day and a half.

I got my exercise this morning. It too me two hours of shoveling, revving my engine, burning my clutch, getting stuck and I finally (with the help of a neighbor and Mark one of the apartment managers)got to the end of the driveway. It was a triumph until I found out that the street was worse than the parking lot. I gave up went inside rested then went outside again and dug myself another parking space at the front of the lot.

I felt bad because I didn't want to block the driveway. But even then, noone could have gone through that lot without digging through the whole parking lot anyway.

I hope tomorrow I'll be mobile. I supposing that this whole day and the two nights were good for me. You know what, I got to stay for a whole day in my pajamas. Just what SARK would have perscribed!

I did have a good time today. I shoveled a path for the cars on either side of me. I got to be outside and talk to different people. The whole neighborhood was shut down. Lots of people came out to dig their cars out. It actually looked like a neighborhood for once instead of an empty street.

People were digging with pots and pans and dust pans. It looked a lot like a frontier town. All the buildings in the area are at least 80 years old and since everyone was out and playing and all the cars were buried out of sight, I felt I was in one of theose old yellowed photographs, being part of the scene.

I think all of this was a gift. It forced people to stop and be alone with themselves -- it forced us to go outside and work our bodies and exercise our humanity for one another. We were forced to utilize our own selves (body and mind). To carry out what we were built for.

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