A snowstorm in March. I know it’s still technically winter but, nevertheless, it feels so out of place. Like Christmas in July or a healthy economy.
I can’t say I’m happy with this weather. If I wanted to walk around with wet socks and fall on my butt then I would have just gone to Sam Donaldson’s retirement party.
At least I live in New York City, which means I don’t have to shovel. I’ve never been a fan of shoveling. In fact, as a general rule, I am opposed to anything that builds character and/or makes sidewalks safer for the elderly.
It is, however, tough to argue that snow doesn’t make everything seem prettier. Maybe it’s the Robert Frost in me talking but there’s just something special about a mugger fleeing by toboggan. Then again, maybe it's the Peppermint Schnapps in me talking.
My dog Sammy is a Labrador Retriever so, of course, she loves the snow. Her favorite thing to do is to get on her back and wriggle in it. It’s behavior that raises far fewer eyebrows at the dog park than it did during her brief stint sniffing out cocaine at the airport.
When I was younger I welcomed snowstorms because they brought with them the possibility of days off from school. Unfortunately, the television news business does not operate on that system. You can’t call in and say, “I’m not going to make it to work today, the roads are too dangerous.” If you do, mark my words, ten minutes later Lou Dobbs will be outside your apartment on a snowmobile.
There are lots of people who, obviously, do love this kind of weather, skiers being chief amongst them. I myself have never been one for skiing. I think it’s because I – what’s the word I’m looking for, ah yes – can’t.
I know, a New Englander who can’t ski. It’s sacrilege. Though it’s not for a lack of trying. I just get too nervous way up there on top of that bunny hill. Crashing into trees, avalanches, polar bear attacks…I’ll just meet you in the lodge, thank you very much.
I can’t water-ski either. My only experience water-skiing was watching that scene in Jaws where the woman gets picked off by the shark. As a result, I have about as much interest in water-skiing as I do in being shot out of a cannon or going to see Confessions of a Shopaholic.
As for today, it’s difficult to determine exactly how much snow has fallen in New York. I suppose I could turn on the TV but that would require getting out of bed. And looking out the window, well, that just seems like cheating.
I think I’ll just sit here, hoping that it melts before the polar bears arrive.
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