The sun was shining when we climbed aboard the 1992 Chevy Suburban for a quick jaunt to the store.
The wife needed but one item, meaning we both grabbed a cart as we walked through the automatic doors. Two hours later, when we had consumed the cash in our wallet and purse and reached the limit on one of our credit cards, we headed out the door for the hunt for red Suburban.
In the time the wife was doing her utmost to pull the economy out of recession, vehicles in the lot had been covered by several inches of snow and sleet.
Drivers attempting to pull out of their spaces were having difficulty... Read More