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Volume XI: The Gold

Posted by aquaman on February 12, 2006.

commutingsuicidelogo2.jpg

In the spirit of the Games of the 20th Winter Olympiad, I just accomplished my greatest feat in recent memory.

While preparing the driveway for tomorrow's commute, I realized why, hours earlier, DirecTV had called it quits. No longer did our dish enjoy a clear view of the southern sky. Instead, it was covered by twenty inches of entertainment-suppressing snow.

Despite spending hundreds on a ladder last year, I had little confidence in myself, in the snow, to fix this problem without breaking my hip. With a yard of accumulation at my disposal, I channeled Peyton Manning and started chucking iceballs at our covered dish.

My first shot sailed 10 yards over the target. In true Manning form, I blamed my neighbor. But then I composed myself. Packed the next ball a little tighter. Took off my gloves. And I knew my second shot was a touchdown the moment it left my ice-cold hand.

This great success was shared with a half-dozen fellow shovelers. Without knowing my DirecTV service had been interrupted, I'm not sure what they were thinking.

I went inside and turned on the cross-country skiing time-trials. And after three minutes, I realized my feat was more fun to watch, and restoring DirecTV service was not that big a deal.

Here's a ticket to the Commuting Suicide archives. I realize this chapter was only tangentially related to commuting. But it's the weekend. On weekends, we'll explore the studio space.

If you enjoyed this story, read more like it in our Commuting Suicide section.

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