Paul Turner: In fair Spokane, where we lay our scene, from ancient grudge break to new mutiny … over studded tires

If we were going to update Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” and set the play in Spokane, what would be the outline of this adaptation?

Well, first we would need a new name for this classic tragedy.

How about “Ethan and Madison”?

And then what about the source of the tension between their two families?

Religion? Nah. Politics? Please. North Side vs. South Hill? Getting warmer.

Really, the choice seems obvious. Ethan’s and Madison’s families would have bitterly opposing views on the subject of studded tires.

Can their love overcome this seemingly unbridgeable divide?

At first, it would seem doubtful.

Madison’s mother could lay out the cultural chasm between the two households.

“Madison, honey, don’t you see? That boy’s family uses studded tires. They don’t care if they rip up the roads. They cause potholes. We cannot have anything to do with them.”

Meantime, Ethan’s father would have a word with his lovesick son.

“Those people are not like us. They live in a flat part of town. They don’t leave home early, when the black ice awaits. They think it’s OK to drive a 10-ton monstrosity in the name of safety but they would begrudge us our legal right to studded tires. Can’t you see, son? That girl is not our kind.”

Ah, but of course, true love trumps differences over tire policy.

Our star-crossed lovers, Ethan and Madison, fall together and sing a moving song from “West Side Story,” perhaps the most famous “Romeo and Juliet” adaptation.

There’s a place for us,

A time and place for us.

Hold my hand and we’re halfway there.

Hold my hand and I’ll take you there.

Somehow,

Some day,

Somewhere!

That place is, of course, Spokane, Washington.

But the differences over studded tires are not overcome in an hour, or a day.

Members of the two families meet in the parking lot outside Dick’s Hamburgers and stage a vicious dance-off.

Then things really get brutal. Hearings are held by the state Legislature. Witnesses are called to testify against and on behalf of studded tires.

It seems there will never be agreement. But then our lovers step into the spotlight.

All they want is to hold each other. All they want is to be together.

Isn’t that more important than doctrinal differences over winter tires?

But just as Ethan and Madison’s love seems as if it will lift them above the road-wear fray, a dark cloud appears.

Madison’s mother whispers the unsettling words.

“Are you going to raise your children to be studded tire people?”

Across town, Ethan’s dad does the same.

“Will my future grandson careen around icy roads on studless tires? You have a choice to make, son.”

Feeling hopeless and heartbroken, Madison staggers to Riverfront Park where she intends to end it all.

Ethan finds her there, sitting on a bench. Their wet eyes lock and they know this is goodbye.

She is from a Spokane family that loathes studded tires. He is from a studded tires family.

They know now they can never be together. And then, just as they are about to share one last embrace, they simultaneously catch sight of a gleaming vision. It’s something they have never seen.

The Riverfront Park Ice Ribbon.

Suddenly all the wrangling about studded tires seems to fade away. A new day has dawned. Anything is possible.

They can talk about tires another time.

Ethan and Madison, hand in hand, rise as one and head to the skate rental counter.