Last time the river rose near the top of the dyke Sonja, Ranger and I went down to have a look. As I live in a community of over the top Animal Sacrificing Christians who are abnormally fascinated by floods, homosexual coupling and people who cannot read signs telling them to keep their dog on a leash we had to park some distance from the river on the edge of a deep ditched road instead of in the riverside park's car park which had overflowed.
The local authourities (aka dumb city motherfuckers most people scoff at) had warned everybody not to go down to the river for a look. Trouble is: a good-sized segment of society will always do the exact opposite of what the government thinks is good for them. The sort of people who will keep the police busy busting grow-ops until the end of civilization or the end of prohibition. That is the part of society I share my beer with.
If the city patriarchs were serious about keeping people away from the high river the mayor of Steepleton would have charged admission to see the river's spring pace. Once people around here have forked over 10% of their wages to their parasitical church, pumped gas in their car, bought a bag of weed and a couple cases of beer there is not a lot of discretionary spending left in their wallets.
When the three of us climbed the dyke's edge and looked over we were not disappointed. The river was less than a foot from the dyke's crest. Parents held their children tight lest they slip and be swept away by a current more powerful than their God. Grandparents, on scooters or supported by canes, shared their stories of the great flood of '48.
Fast rising water in a creek or a small river looks pretty cool no matter how dirty or dangerous it might be. But fast rising water in one of the world's great rivers, the Fucking Fraser, looks evil as the men who stood by and cheered on the execution of Saddam Hussein. That's because what you see on the surface is not half as bad as what is hidden underneath.
It is widely thought this year's tremendous snowpack is a result of global warming intensifying weather patterns. I remember when the hippy scientists first started suggesting that storm intensification was a good bet if we predictably continued to suicidally pump bad shit into our air. It all made perfect sense to me, hippy scientists are the best, but just about everyone has been surprized to see the chicken come home to roost in our bedevilled lifetime.
It so happens I finally got around to watching Gore's " An Inconvenient Truth" last night. Gore, like most all politicians, is too fucking polite. The film ought to have been titled "A Suicidal Truth." To paraphrase Lou Reed, it's time to put up or shut up or we'll never play outdoor hockey again.