Snow makes the greatest jailer of all, and we’re all its prisoners. Days of numbing cold and piles of relentless white have enervated everybody in the country to some extent. The people who still have the benefit of warm temperatures have to deal with news of us sufferers dealing with the issue elsewhere, and I’m sure it’s as annoying to watch it as to be in it.
Our latest snow event took place the day after a holiday and gave parents little or no time to restore their lives to normal before the kids were back home again, sent back from school in anticipation of weather-related disasters to come. They were right; a drive home which normally takes me a half hour in New Jersey took me over three that day. Most of it I spent doing the Brake Tap Tango in one jam after another because vehicles ahead of me succumbed to years of neglected scheduled maintenance.
Once secured in the home, there were the relentless hours of snow coverage on the local news. Anybody who slept in with sleep shades and earbuds on and did not look out the window needed only to turn on the tube and, within the half hour, they would know what was going on.
Snow makes for great photos, great human interest stories (a baby was born while the family tried a sled to get the mother down the driveway in the icy cold) and a great deal of physical and mental stress. Fortunately some gentlemen on my block were kind enough to dig me out of the driveway, and the local plows did not touch the street and, therefore, saved me having to relocate the inevitable trench in front of the driveway apron. Snow shovelilng is a good workout for men (who have the heat and stamina to do it) and women who want something other than Curves or Zumba. Fortunately this last storm was powdery and not as icy, so shoveling or sweeping was not such a trying cardio session. I remember years in which the average shovel filled with snow could be used in Olympic weightlifting (in which case I pushed, rather than flung). The overabundance of white, and the closed-in feeling of accumulated snow has a psychological effect on the mind, and sometimes people can get a bad case of cabin fever. This is best resolved by adding device batteries to your bread and milk list before every storm. And don’t play “Candy Crush Saga(R)” if you’re at a level you’ve been challenged upon to beat, as losing multiple times can also add to your depression.
Since I am in a job which requires my presence in any type of weather, I am glad to have the tools needed to clear off my car: an ergonomically designed scraper and brush, a broom, an old reliable hand-held scraper from 1972 (before they invented ergonomics), and a pocketful of tissues (for the runny nose that comes from being out in the cold scraping off the car). The handy pack of window wipes in my glove box froze in the storm, so I took it into the office with me; when I came out to go home, they were room temperature and worked like a charm to remove the road grime from the windows (though I almost forgot myself and nearly dabbed at my nose with one). The rest of the clean-up I leave to the pros in the plow brigade, whom I hope also have a good supply of tissues.
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