The Means of Production
On a slightly related note, I'm now sort of a cheater: we got a snow blower. Well, more accurately, we were gifted a snow blower by the super-dope G-man and Karen from the lake country. And, really, may god bless them. Tonight, not only did they facilitate a quick and mighty 2-cycle cleansing of our driveway, they also made a cool "Dad moment" happen.
I got home from work and we got the boys into bed. Lately, Max has been a pretty active little boy after lights out. So tonight there was some deal-making regarding activities and television viewing predicated on his staying in bed tonight. He seemed to get the message so I suited up and started in with the snow-hate. After a few passes, admiring the long arc of snow spraying out of the chute and the snow mist enveloping everything, I noticed I had an admirer: there, in his window, was the little Max face.
I can remember watching my Dad blowing snow and being pretty amazed by the guy out there, in the cold, wrangling some machine into tossing snow into the air. So there was Max, standing at his window, sneaking a fascinated look at his Dad with some crazy machine in the dark, snow flying everywhere in the street light-lit night.
I just hope it appeared appealing enough that it'll be him out there in a few years. I've got Scotch that needs drinkin'.
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