Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

Feb. 20, 2003: Snow Hysteria

I just spent two hours digging out my truck, and I've come to a decision. I can't go anywhere, because if I do, someone will steal my parking spot.

And now, I hear they're giving $100 fines for anyone who tries to save a parking space while they're gone.

I understand that a couple years ago, somebody was shot for taking someone else's space. Somebody didn't get enough hot cocoa.

So for the last few days, I haven't even bothered to shovel out my space. Last storm, I'd shoveled it out very neatly, come back and found my space had been taken. As a telecommuter, I don't really need to go anywhere, and most things I need are within walking distance.

I have hopes for this weekend when it's supposed to not only warm up but also rain, which may mean some of this stuff will be gone. I don't know what my dog would think about this. She's been very excited every time we go outside and yet remains confused, every time she tries to walk on the snow, when she sinks in. She hasn't gone into the back yard since the snow stopped, because the last time she tried, it was up to her neck. The last time, I could barely open the back door.

Some kids in the neighborhood have dug tunnels into the huge mounds of snow created by people shoveling out. I understand that in New York there are mountains of snow where it's been piled up. A couple nights ago, Conan O'Brien was playing "King of the Hill" on one such pile, reminding me of similar childhood experiences.

Of course, when the snow melts, we could be in for some flooding, which would upset me more if I lived near a body of water. Growing up, I was on the Susquehanna River and was used to the flash flooding that would result from weather anomalies like this one. Even though we lived literally right on the river banks, we were at a section that was high enough we only got flooded when the river rose exceptionally high.

This happened twice in my childhood. The first one I don't remember, Hurricane Agnes, though I've seen pictures of the downtown flooded and people zipping around in boats. The second flood was in 1975, right around my brother's third birthday. We spent it at a friend's house, and it seemed like a big sleep-over. I don't remember much about cleaning up our place afterwards or exactly how long we were away.

Surprisingly, though the snow stopped a couple days ago, there are still some people who haven't shoveled their walks. This means you have to be prepared for some heavy exercise when you go out. Right after a stretch of clear sidewalk, you come to an area of crusty, hardened snow with deep footprints running through it.

I don't think people around here are used to snow that hangs around. I think they're used to snow that just inconveniences them for a little while and then melts away.

Even with all this snow, I can't impress my brother, who lives in Vermont. I told him about our 20 inches of snow, and he asked me how cold it was here. "I don't know. About freezing," I said.

"It's 20 degrees below freezing here," he said proudly. Some mornings it's so cold his car won't even start. Sounds like heaven.

Already I can feel it getting warmer, and before long the snow, even this snow, will be just a memory.

In preparation for that moment, a friend of mine was upset nobody's coined a catchy name for this storm. He told me about the Knickerbocker Blizzard of 1922, which hit the Washington, D.C., area and got its name from destroying the Knickerbocker Theater and killing 90 people.

I suggested we come up with our own name. My ideas ranged from: The Great Inconvenience, the Snow Job, the Presidents' Punishment (since it came on Presidents' Day Weekend), the Great Parking Battles of '03, the Dog Swallower or the Protest Blizzard (since it fell right after the worldwide protests against a war in Iraq).

Then, of course, there's the standard, Blizzard of '03. Which reminds me of another of my pet peeves. You'd think that, three years into this decade, we would have come up with a punchy nickname for it. But the best anyone has come up with is "millennium." I'm not suggesting we should use "aught three" like they did in the 1900's, that being far too old-fashioned. I think we need something punchier.

My humble suggestion "bing." Just imagine, telling your grandchildren about the Great Parking Battles of Bing-Three." Doesn't it have a wonderful ring to it?

Moral:
Shoveling snow bright and early leads to complications of the brain matter.

Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson

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