By STEVE OUELLETTE, You Had to Ask
Today, I saw a single perfect snowflake.
No two snowflakes are alike, I'm told — but I can't say for sure, because I don't have anything to compare this one to. I haven't seen a single other flake in about a month.
Maybe things will change by the time this story goes to press — the meteorologists were predicting a light dusting or an occasional flurry or a "modified sou'wester with accumulations of one to three millimeters" — but as I write this, the ground outside my home is completely bare.
My snow shovel has begun to rust in the corner. Bags of unused Ice Melt are stacked up in the garage. Snow boots have been stuffed in the closet, replaced by Crocs and flip-flops.
Here in our normally iced-over little corner of the winter world, it feels like a crisp October. The ground isn't frozen. I had to mow the lawn Tuesday.
I'm not complaining, mind you. I don't like shoveling the driveway, then re-shoveling it every time the plow goes by. I don't like the treacherous driving. I don't like the discomforting thought that, if we get completely snowed in, my family would quickly choose to sacrifice me for life-giving nourishment.
Our area, however, has a whole snow culture that usually thrives at this time of year. Skiers and snowboarders and snowshoers are ticked off. Winter carnivals have been ruined.
Snowplow drivers, instead of getting overtime, are being forced to take voluntary leave. Children are crying because there's been nary a snow day. Teachers are crying because there's been nary a snow day.
My own children would really like to go sledding, build a snowman, engage in a snowball war.
"Dad," they ask me, with little drops forming in the corners of their eyes, "Why "¦ why won't it snow?"
I didn't really have an answer for my children. They hate it when I simply tell them that they're cursed. They've outgrown the old "God is protecting us with a giant hair dryer" explanation. I could try showing them some colorful, blinking Doppler weather charts displaying colliding warm fronts and cold fronts, but even children know all that stuff is made up to fill four minutes on the evening news.
My only answer is, "I don't know. Maybe it will snow tomorrow."
Everyone is quick to blame this on global warming, but as a majority of Americans (and almost seven people in the rest of the modern world) can tell you, global warming is a giant fraud perpetrated by the evil power brokers at National Public Radio.
Lack of snow isn't a problem in other areas of the country. Much of the United States has been buried in snow. Portions of the South have never seen this much. The nation's capital has been buried underneath 5 feet more snow than Plattsburgh has seen all winter. Heck, just across the lake from us, Burlington got almost 3 feet in one storm — a storm that didn't touch us.
The only other place in the world complaining about too little snow is Vancouver, currently trying to run the Winter Olympics in tropical temperatures.
As I said, I really don't mind the lack of snow — but as a dad, I have no choice. The kids want the stuff, and I gotta do whatever I can for the kids. But how can I bring snow?
I can't seed the clouds. My crazy pants-on-the-ground snow dance had the neighbors calling the police on indecency charges. I can't reasonably expect Frosticlees, Greek God of Snow, to answer my prayers after I'd ignored him all these years.
My only way to get snow is to write about how little there is.
Just say thanks and watch it fall. Any second now. I'll be shoveling for weeks.
E-mail Steve Ouellette at: ouellette1918@gmail.com
