2003-01-15 - 3:40 p.m.
There has been no snow here this winter, a fact that has made the winter unusually easy to cope with so far, and everyone a little nervous. But...the teasers for the evening news kept coming on television last night, breaking in to ask: Is snow on the way? in a voice that might have been used to say: Is the world coming to an end? The little banner running continuously across the screen repeated WINTER.... STORM..... WATCH. The weather guys were absolutely gleeful, almost laughing as they gestured dramatically at their radar maps and colored shapes, knowing their viewer base was rising like a rocket as everyone was persuaded to stayed glued to the show to find out... if... it ....would...snow. Snow is a such a big buzzword in the midwest, a big emotional pushbutton. People love it or hate it, but nobody seems to be indifferent about it.
On the one hand it freaks everyone out. Our neighbors in the northern states would laugh at how afraid everyone here is of a little snow. The schools close en masse at the first powder, and the city seems unprepared when it comes to plowing the streets. Every year they announce that they are going broke because the plowing of snow was an unexpected expense. Although it happens every year, most people seem to dress as if they never considered the possibility it might snow. You still see people picking through the white stuff in sandals, trying to get their car windows cleared off with spatulas.
But on the other hand, when it really does snow, and the conditions are treacherous, it seems like snow is not considered a reason for missing anything.... work, for example.... meetings, appointments. I have gone out in the most frightening conditions to fulfill my obligation to appear at work, even though there was nothing pressing to do.
I admit, I am not a bold driver in the snow. My car is old, light, and sits low to the ground.... not a good vehicle for navigating bad streets. We live at the top of a steep hill. I have been stalled with wheels spinning half the way up, and had to persuade the traffic behind me to back up so I could slide back down. I don't think anything is worth risking life and limb.... but winter hibernation is frowned upon by my employer and pretty much everyone else. If it snows, I will be out there trying to excavate my car, or walking (albeit in my snow boots) the two miles between my home and office.
I wish... (and this is a big, squishy wish that will never come true, but I'm going to say it any way...) that it were possible to live in a more natural way with the seasons, the weather and one's internal clock. I wonder why we have to pretend that every minute of every day is the same. Basically, our system of work is set up to treat us like machines. Why could we not stay home when the weather is bad and the highways dangerous? And why do we have to get up in the cold dark of the pre-dawn hours, just to get to work at the same time every day, when every fiber of the body is telling us to stay warm and sleep? It would make sense to start later and work shorter hours when the days are so short. And I would be perfectly willing to do without the constant availability of goods and services so that others could do the same.
(And I suppose the above stated opinion is just another aspect of my basic objection to the whole notion of the institutionalized work ethic, which I believe to be a class issue. It is not necessary to work at anything for forty hours a week. The time that is wasted because people simply cannot sit and perform like machines for eight hours a day could be put to much better use somewhere else in anyone's life. I don't know why our whole society clings so desperately to the idea that having a job means that you must do it all day, every day, that it must occupy your life so completely.... but that is a rant for another day.)
It is completely quiet outside right now, even the few dried leaves still on the box elder tree outside my window are not stirring. The sky has that uniform pale gray color that suggests clouds are close to the earth, just waiting for the right moment to open up. There is an uneasiness around the office, as everyone keeps peering out the windows, searching for signs that the storm is about to begin.
A part of me wants a huge blizzard, a storm so big (after we get home, of course) that there will be no question of our appearing anywhere and we would have that rare and shining gift: a snow day. There are few enough of those days in adult life.... when the city is paralyzed, all plans are off, no matter how "important" and you stay home, eat whatever you happen to have on hand.... when, even though it is probably technically no colder inside than any other winter day, you wrap in blankets and sip cocoa and sink deeply into the comfort of a good novel.... when you actually take the time to sit and gaze out the window and appreciate the beauty of the pristine white covering, silencing and softening the outside world.
But what I'm afraid of is that we will have slightly less than enough snow for a snow day, and then we will be expected to shovel our way out tomorrow, another complication in an already complicated life.
�
