The missus and I just returned from a venture into the frozen wasteland that surrounds us. We thought her office was opening at noon today, but a timely cell phone call stopped us before we pulled onto the I-85 parking lot.
I’ve seen lots of snow in my life, and I will not be shy about offering some of my peculiar perspectives.
Snowy front yard at night
I don’t remember specific storms. Or hardly anything else, for that matter. Many (most?) people remember specific weather events by date, and even by name. SnowJam 80-something. Hurricane Somebody back in ninety-whenever. Unless I have a memorable connection point, I don’t remember that sort of thing. I remember Hurricane Katrina, but I have to use other data points to figure out when it happened. It would be convenient to blame it on the number of birthdays I’ve enjoyed (most of them, by the way), but it was true even when I was a young pup. I can still remember part numbers from control panels I built in the 80s, but so much of my life can’t be reduced to part numbers. And what she was wearing on our first date? Nope. Sorry.
Southerners don’t make good snow. OK, I know we don’t make it. Maybe I should say, we don’t get good snow. I’ve driven on snow in Chicago and Indiana for comparison. Let me clarify – I didn’t go to Chicago or Indiana for the sole purpose of sampling their snow. But, having driven on their snow in order to get around, I can compare it to Southern snow. With a few exceptions, most of our snow is really more icy and sleety. What snow we do get usually thaws then re-freezes, insuring a slippery surface. Snow in Chicago stays snowy, from my experience, and it is much easier to drive on.
In the 70s and 80s, until child #2 made his appearance, we mostly drove my GMC pickup. Pickup trucks are good for lots of things, but driving on snowy roads ain’t one of them. I purchased a set of chains from the Sears & Roebuck catalog after our first storm. I kept them in my tool box, and I can still remember the finger-numbing process of installing them over multiple winter storms. Fortunately, our current front-wheel-drive sedan gets around exceptionally well on snow.
Back deck
By the way, my first real adult driving-in-snow experience was in Indiana, where I had flown for work. I had a rental car, and I took some of the locals to lunch. They were surprised at my ability to drive in the snow, commenting that they didn’t think people from Georgia knew how. I told them that it was just like driving on a muddy clay road, which I had done plenty of time in South Georgia. In fact I think snow is easier. And it’s also easier to get off your clothes.
Blizzard? What blizzard? Years ago I came up with my own definition of ‘blizzard’ – more snow than a region’s systems can handle. It happens even in places like Buffalo, NY, where snow is just a fact of life. (Sadly, I can’t remember when the big Buffalo Blizzard was, but it was between 1977 and 1986, and every component I ordered that month was delivered late because, inexplicably, all shipments went through Buffalo.) In Southern cities, it just takes much less snow to overwhelm our systems. Few plows, little salt, no shovels, it just hasn’t been cost-effective for Georgia governments to purchase that sort of stuff as rare as snow storms are here.
I should also clarify that my definition of a blizzard is not even close, from a meteorological perspective. There are good definitions on the internet, including this Wikipedia definition of a Winter Storm, which pretty much says that same thing I said, just more eloquently.
Southerners exploit snow whenever possible. We see it as a divinely-ordained day off. And the second day is even better. But the third day? We’re tired of being cooped up, so we get out the garden shovels, clear off the driveway, and try to go about our business. And for most storms, that is about the right timing.
The storm we are in the middle of this week looks like it may go longer. Our brief excursion out confirmed that there are still plenty of ice patches, treacherous roadways, and overly-confident drivers. That is not a good combination. And with the prediction of high temperatures still in the sub-freezing range until Friday, it may not get better until the weekend.
Sometimes we over-react. Jayne tells a story of the time our kids cut out paper snowflakes and taped them to the front windows of our house. She claims a passing school administrator saw them, and called off school for two days.
Sometimes it does seem that we over-react. But for those responsible for making the call, it is a difficult balance. If you close down and nothing happens, you look foolish and waste valuable time. But if you don’t, and tragedy occurs, you look irresponsible. Fortunately, we have much better access to weather forecasts, traffic reports, and first-hand observation thanks to modern communication technologies.
Eventually the snow goes away. Even in the extreme climes (parts of Canada, Alaska, and the poles excepted), the snow melts, and life gets back to it’s non-snowbound state. Especially here in Georgia.
For most of us around here, it’s pretty, and it’s fun, and we enjoy the break from routine.
And those are my wishes for you today, that you enjoy the good parts, and the bad parts of being stuck in airports or on highways fade away as if they were stored in my memory.
Addendum
I recorded a trip over crunchy snow to check the mailbox, and since I haven’t posted a sound yet, I thought I would try it. In addition to the crunching, you can hear occasional gusts of wind, and hear the mailbox close right in the middle. Heady stuff. Click to listen to the sound of snow crunching.
By the way, when the uploader was processing the file, it displayed the word “Crunching”. It was most certainly a technical term, rather than an interpretation of the audio, but it tickled me nonetheless.