My youngest brother, a sports columnist, is in town for the Super Bowl. He arrived on Sunday, mocking the way Dallas handles bad weather. One of his first text messages to me was:
I came here from Pittsburgh where 12-year-olds drive cabs in the snow.When the ice storm hit Monday night, I urged him not to drive to the stadium in his rental car, especially since the NFL was providing buses for the teams and the media for Media Day.
Tuesday morning, DART (Dallas Area Rapid Transit) was not operating its buses for the residents of Dallas, but the Super Bowl nobility were chauffeured to their destination. A caravan of NFL buses and police cars trailed behind a sanding machine en route to the stadium. I sent my brother a text saying I was watching him on television. Frustrated by the slow progress, he responded that the ice would melt before they got there. And, in homage to O.J. Simpson's low-speed televised car chase, he added that Al Cowlings was in the seat in front of him on the bus.
I stayed home from work Tuesday, but went to the University on Wednesday and Thursday. I warned my brother to be careful on the ice. I told him I had used my breakfast chair to balance me on the ice when I went outside to feed the cardinals (I have four nesting pairs in my backyard). He laughed at me. And then he slipped and landed on his back when he went out to dinner with his colleagues late Wednesday night.
Last night, six inches of snow covered the ice in my backyard. It's gorgeous, and I'm staying home again today because Dallas does not own a single snow plow.
Six inches of snow is nothing to people in Chicago and Boston, but when your city doesn't even have a supply of salt, it paralyzes traffic.
P.S. My brother is now expressing concern that he will be able to get home Monday morning.