I’ve always dreamed of having a backyard ice rink.

So I went online the other day to watch some YouTube videos on how to make my dream come true.

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What I should have been watching is videos on how to build a bunker and prepare for the apocalypse.

I’m half-joking.

After what I’ve witnessed, heard, read and experienced this winter, I’ve lost a considerable amount of hope in humanity and peoples’ ability to adapt to a temporary inconvenience.

Panic has set in and many of us have become more self-involved than we already are: Hey young person from down the street, that parking spot you bogarted was shoveled out by residents (I know you saw us) for an elderly neighbour’s family visiting from California.

Who does that?

Apparently, the same type of me-first person who steals more than the two-bucket maximum of salt from firehalls the night before it was to be made available free to the public. Was that you trying to sell it for a profit on Craigslist?

It’s also the same person who transforms into Grampa Simpson at this time of year and waves his clenched fist at the city for not immediately plowing his road or picking up his garbage. Maybe some of that anger is warranted. Maybe the city could have acted sooner. Or maybe the media gods were tired of the griping by residents about real estate and arranged for the snowpocalypse.

Now I'm getting ridiculous.

But here's what I know: It’s winter and driving and walking and getting from A to B might take a little longer, just like in other cities in Canada, including Toronto, where I endured three winters and lived to write about it.

Obviously, my two new best friends didn’t subscribe to this reality when we met on my way home the other night. I was slowly inching my front-wheel drive, snow-tire equipped car up an icy incline when a guy in a pickup truck (it’s always a guy in a pickup) refused to yield as he rolled down the hill.

Of course, I got stuck when I pulled over for pickup dude to pass (and no courtesy wave, thank you very little). I couldn’t move forward, so I had to roll backwards down the hill.

Pickup dude parked near the bottom but his truck was still running. I rolled past and was almost at the intersection, when he pulled out and creeped towards my car, his headlights blinding me. Then he laid on the horn.

Another motorist pulled in behind him and joined in the horn-honking chorus, which was just fantastic. I made it to the intersection, turned my car around, drove up another street and pulled over to take a breath.

Pickup dude went the other way. His horn-honking friend rolled up and opened his window, allowing a cloud of marijuana smoke to billow out. Then he called me an ‘effin dummy for driving down the street backwards. He sped away before I could argue my case.

Nice.

Two thoughts came to mind: First, I thought a pothead would be more chill than that and, two, now I know exactly how Bill Bixby felt when he transformed into The Incredible Hulk.

I’ve experienced this same sort of behaviour from people during a power outage when I witnessed spats breaking out at the local Starbucks over access to power outlets to charge phones.

Same goes for parking spot battles at malls during Christmas.

Everyone is in a rush and we appear to be sliver-close to losing it when the world doesn’t turn as it should each day. So we blame government, we blame our neighbours, we blame businesses.

Because, as we all know, it’s all about us, right?

Let me conclude with this: When the much-anticipated big shaker hits Vancouver, I hope I’m nowhere near the epicentre because that’s when we’ll see what humanity really looks like.

The test runs, so far, suggest we’re in trouble.

For now, I’m going to get working on that rink.

mhowell@vancourier.com

@Howellings