What They Don't Tell You about Snowstorms

In honor of the totally shitty weather this week, and the foot and a half of snow received two weeks ago, I present:

What They Don’t Tell You about Snowstorms

Let’s start off with what they do tell you about snowstorms; because I assure you, it’s all true. Yes, it snows so hard that you can’t even see your hand in front of your face, or ten feet out the window. Yes, it’s like being surrounded by a white sheet. They are called white outs for a reason, and the name is apt. Yes, the snow is fluffy, and falls in large, wet clumps. Yes, the wind is gusty, and it whips up more snow. And yes, it does indeed bury everything.

It’s true, every child goes to bed at night hoping and praying for a snowstorm so that school will be cancelled the next day. I certainly did. On the days school is cancelled because of snow, as soon as we hear about it, we rush to the window to see how much snow is there, and if it’s still falling, before we go back to sleep. Yes, snowstorms do seem to erase everything. The image of everything outside covered in freshly fallen snow certainly has a majestic connotation, and while we don’t sit inside getting warm by the crackling fire, it really is a winter wonderland.

Except when it isn’t.

You see, what they don’t tell you about snowstorms is how incredibly frustrating and annoying they are. Generally, snowstorms aren’t that devastating like a tornado or a hurricane. They’re just a giant inconvenience for those of unfortunate enough to be stuck in their path.

The thing about snowstorms is that just because it starts snowing, real life doesn’t stop. Hurricanes shut down entire areas. Only the absolute worst snowstorms do. When a snowstorm is on the way, most people I know just roll their eyes and say, “Yeah, so?”

People know that they’re still going to have to go to work, go to school, pick up their kids, and go grocery shopping. What they don’t tell you about snowstorms is how tedious driving becomes. What they don’t tell you is what it’s like to be in front of someone in a giant, over-wide pick up truck who thinks they know how to drive in a snowstorm or being stuck behind someone in a Cadillac with a Florida plates who you know can’t. They don’t tell you about driving down a normally busy and bustling street that is now abandoned. Instead of driving in the right lane, you’re driving down the center of this abandoned road so that if you do happen to spin out and fish-tail, you don’t end up in the ditch. If you’re smart, you’ll just stay at home and do the one thing you should be doing during a snowstorm.

Shovel your driveway and sidewalks. It’s really the only thing you should be doing. It’s also one of the biggest pains in the neck on God’s green (or white) earth. Your lower back is going to be sore from bending over low enough to get the shovel under all that snow. Your shoulders are going to be sore from pushing and lifting hundreds if not thousands of pounds of snow. Your legs are going to be tired from walking back and forth and from helping with the lifting. Then there’s the cold. Your face is going to be stinging from the frigid wind. Your cheeks are going to be red from it, giving you a new appreciation for what a certain jolly old man in a red suit has to endure to get his trademark rosy cheeks. Your hands and feet are going to be numb, making it difficult to grasp the shovel and making you dread the dull ache of blood returning to your extremities after you go back inside.

That’s if you get to go back inside. This is the worst thing about shoveling sidewalks and driveways- by the time you get done the first time, you have to start all over again. There’s nothing more disheartening than to finish the driveway, looking back to where you started, and see the driveway completely covered in snow. Philip Gerard doesn’t know what he’s talking about when he says that it doesn’t stop. The snow doesn’t stop falling either, and that’s what they don’t tell you about snowstorms.