Wet Feet

A few weeks ago, the Saturday Evening Post featured the annals of a 100-mile trip across some Louisiana bog. This being the second such journey in the state's history, the Post was manifestly excited. All of which proves nothing, except that the magazine's editors have never seen Cambridge in winter.

If they had, they might have restrained themselves. For, while reasonable men must grant the dicerence between slipping quietly into six yards of quicksand and slipping noisily into two feet of Cambridge slush, the contrast is only one of degree. The result is disturbing in either case.

Moreover, in Louisiana you are at least forewarned and can prepare. In Cambridge, though, everyone not used to the city's foibles, and thus not aware that snow-removal equipment need not imply snow removal, is taken completely by surprise. The toll in ruined footwear, drenched feet, and stuffed-up noses is incalculable.

Even Massachusetts Avenue, the city's most excavated, rebuilt, and generally coddled thoroughfares, was for two days lined with heaps of slush. 'What's worse the snow ridges imprisoned veritable moats of water, making street crossing a challenge worthy of the Round Table's best effort.

The main problem, however, is the side-streets, for in many cases they have yet to feel the play. Parked cars complicate things, admittedly but there are remedies for this. Many streets have vehicles on only one side for that matter, and in any case the corners, now flooded, are easily accessible to snow-removers at all times. Cambridge had better make at least a little effort or else--who knows?--the saga of inundated pedestrians may rate space in the Saturday Evening Post too.