One of my favorite Bushisms is one that George W. said when visiting Nashville in 2002. “There’s an old saying in Tennessee,” he began. “I know it’s in Texas, probably in Tennessee [as well] — that says, ‘Fool me once: shame on you. Fool me [twice]: you can’t get fooled again.”
Bush had forgotten the second part of the saying, which is “Fool me twice: shame on me,” and had made up the rest. But like his many other Freudian slips, this one — spoken between some deceitful assertions about Iraq — contains a certain truth or wisdom of its own. After being fooled twice, you not only shouldn’t be fooled; you can’t be fooled.
Winter wonderland — at least to the Boy Scouts. Photos: Kathleen Pierce, Norbert Pilewski.
Twice this winter, we’ve seen severe storms with high winds and unusual amounts of snow cross the United States. A couple of weeks later, those same storms brought chaos to Britain and northern Germany, where no one had bothered to prepare for them.
So when I tell you now that a third storm — worse than the other two — is on its way, there’ll be no excuse for inaction. People of Rostock, get out those backup generators! People of Berlin, start up those snowplows! People of Hamburg, order those extra cinders! People of Dortmund, start stocking up! You’ve got only days to prepare.
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- The morning after
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- A downed telephone line
Now, any snow at all in Washington, DC, is a catastrophe (or, as Barack Obama called it, “Snowmageddon”), because the winters there are usually warm. People from real snow states like Minnesota and Montana can be excused for chuckling. However, New Jersey and Pennsylvania are used to snow, and even they suffered when 60 to 90 centimeters of it fell overnight.
When my mom sent me an e-mail titled “Storm of the Century”, I thought she was just forwarding some pictures she’d seen somewhere. Instead, she described the situation in Pittsburgh:
“It is snowing heavily as I write, beyond the 22 inches we already have. … Lots of people have lost power; telephone lines are down; trees are down or have broken limbs. Drifts are well over four feet high. … I can hardly see out of the back window. A state of emergency has been declared…
Your dad drove to camp yesterday [where he is a Boy Scout leader]. Some scouts arriving had to have the ranger pull them out of ditches. Some hit trees on the way into the camp. This is a true wilderness survival weekend. I guess nobody thought the storm would be this bad.”
This part of Pennsylvania, I remind you, has the same climate as Baden-Württemberg.
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- Rough going
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- The suburbs
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- All is quiet
My sister, a hospital pharmacist, couldn’t drive to work because her street in the suburbs hadn’t been cleared.
“She called the hospital, and only two pharmacists were there instead of the normal ten. Of course, they were doing only the bare minimum necessary to keep the patients alive.”
The next day brought this news:
“Mail delivery was canceled today in all of the mid-Atlantic states. … The water company has imposed mandatory conservation: no showers, dishwashing, flushing, cooking, or drinking until further notice. A power outage at one of their treatment plants caused low tank levels, and they are afraid of contaminated water. Luckily, we had filled several five-gallon bottles before this started.”
A week later, many businesses are still closed, as are schools and universities. Supermarkets are out of common items because the deliveries couldn’t get through. Garbage isn’t being picked up, and the electricity is still not working in places. So don’t say I didn’t warn you! Of all the “storms of the century” we’ve had, this one seems to be the real thing.
