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Quote of the Day: |
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January 16, 1999 |
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a lever and an inclined plane |
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Copyright © 1998, Janet I. Egan |
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Have you ever had one of those moments when it dawns on you that what you need right now is a lever and an inclined plane? Sometimes the simple machines are just what a girl needs. The final ice layer last night turned the parking lot into something resembling a frozen tundra. The plow came by once or twice, drove straight down the courtyard, and created a snow bank on either side of its path. Overnight the snow banks froze solid. Every car was blocked in by a ridge of ice just above bumper height (well, it didn't quite come up that high on an SUV but all the regular sedans and coupes and whatever...). Having shoveled my car out once yesterday gave me a slight advantage in getting out. I had just enough traction to launch the car over the frozen ridge onto the nicely sanded ice. Not everybody was so lucky. When I got back from buying kitty litter and toilet paper and other essentials of life, I couldn't get into my unit. Two huge chunks of ice blocked the gate. In order to reach my back door I needed ice climbing gear. I nearly lost it right there in the parking lot. I wanted to scream. The anger rose in my throat and nearly choked me. We're talking major rage here. So, I called and left a message for Nancy that I might be a little late because I had to dig my way into my house, and I headed off to Home Depot to buy a new snow shovel as my old one was bent and ineffective. Home Depot was a madhouse. The parking lot wasn't really plowed and where there wasn't snow there was a solid sheet of ice. And every household within a 40 mile radius had at least one car in the parking lot and three family members in the store. I was wishing I had brought ice skates to get to the entrance and then an assault vehicle with a hood-mounted machine gun to negotiate the aisles. I bumped into three people and a display of pliers before I got to the snow shovels. I almost bought a snow blower too, except I couldn't figure out where to store it. The temptation was so great, however, that I compromised on a "power shovel" - a small electric snow blower. I lugged the power shovel and an immense steel-shafted regular snow shovel to the cash register and stood there observing my arms going numb. I bumped into the pliers again so decided to buy some to replace the ones I couldn't find in my tool box the other day. How I got across the ice to the car with both shovels, I have no recollection. I was so tense and angry I was planning to withhold my condo fee - working out the details of my nasty letter to the trustees in the car. Creeping across the parking lot trying to avoid hitting any cars or people, I just got tenser and angrier. A guy walked right in front of my car. I stopped just in the nick of time. He glared at me. I glared at him. I yelled "FU" at the top of my lungs only after he was out of earshot - besides that I had the windows closed. I yelled again at the guy who cut me off getting onto 495. The power shovel didn't do much against the 4 foot high chunks of ice. It kind of shaved it a little, but at that rate it was going to take 'til spring. I hacked and chopped and hacked and chopped and noticed a gap between two of the ice chunks stacked on top of each other. I stared at the gap and at my shovel. I looked at the walkway. It slopes down a little bit. I looked at the ice chunks and looked at the shovel. Eureka: a lever and an inclined plane! Using the bottom ice chunk as the fulcrum and the steel-shafted snow shovel as the lever, I pried the top chunk up and tilted it so it rolled onto the walkway. Using my leg as the fulcrum, I gave it a little push, and voila! In the parking lot. Access to my unit is almost mine! The bottom chunk was a little harder to move because I couldn't get quite as much leverage using my leg as the fulcrum, but I succeeded. The walkway was clear. The gate opened. A McGyver moment! |
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