At long last, the city of Chicago has been covered in a quilt of snow. And not just a piddly dusting, but a nice, well thought out six inches. The kicker is that it’s March, and at this point in the year my mind is starting to turn towards baseball.
I love snow, I do, it’s a huge part of the reason I moved to Chicago (that and a job). Snow is magical, beautiful, wonderful. I can sit and watch it snow for hours. In the Midwest, snow does not restrict itself to the ‘classic’ winter months, but betimes takes part in the long standing tradition we call ‘fucking up spring.’ There’s the Passover/Easter snowstorm of record, which reminds all Chicagoans why no one moves in April (May is better).
Still, the example I love to use about snow is New Years Eve, 1998. I was living alone (not single, as Ipstenit was still living in another state but we were planning to move in together), and I’d been sent to schlep boxes and pre-Pentium PCs around in the warehouse. The filthy, icky, please wear grungy clothes and a face mask warehouse. Nothing like my grandmother’s warehouse. After three days of heavy work, I was tired enough to bail on the New Years Eve party I was set to go to, unhooked my phone and went to sleep before ER on Thursday.
Now, I rather planned on being the tired, and had gone shopping Wednesday night. Also, I’d been told ‘expect a snowstorm! this weekend!’ and I though it’d be wise to stock up. I only lived a couple blocks from the grocery stores (yes, two of them!) so I made three trips. One to Treasure Ivan, for the special foo (expensive Euro food that is generally hard to get in the States) and two to Jewel/Osco, for milk, bread, canned crap, etc (the generic shit). I stocked my fridge, cooked up two sets of meals and froze one half.
Then was Thursday and sleep. I should point out that I’m not a wimp and I love doing my turn of heavy labor, but the stupid lift was down (fork lift) and I had to carry crates up and down stairs, which is hard to do at 5’6″ and 130lbs when you’re all alone because the other women on the team were all ‘ohhh I’ll break a nail.’ Twits. Anyway, I’d been forced to do the work of three people cause two of them were being stupid. It was also something to do with me being the youngest by almost 10 years and them being annoyed that I was the ‘supervisor’ (I’d been working at the company for 9 months longer than both of them, so hi, I was senior by default).
When I fell asleep, it was snowing a little. When I woke up, there was 17 inches of snow on the ground and the wind had blown a lot of it into the front ‘lobby’ of my apartment so no one could get out the front door. The back door was blocked from the alley which was filled with snow. So a bunch of us got up around nine AM, laughed, climbed out the window and shoveled. In return, the coffee house downstairs gave us free breakfasts.
Yesterday and Monday, we were told ‘Snowstorm!’ Okay, how big? ’12 inches!’ Hmm. That’s pretty big. When? ‘Any minute now!’ Uh huh.
Monday? A dusting of snow.
Tuesday? A ‘six inch’ dusting of snow, quickly cleaned up by Mayer Daley.
Wednesday? Another dusting.
At this point it’s getting pitiful. We can’t even have decent snow, let alone a big ass snow storm. And yet the weather men are all hyped about how it’s going to dump a big one on is. Like New York had.
Now, twenty inches is snow. Twelve inches is nice. But six? And a six that didn’t even close down schools for a day? That’s embarrassing.
I’ve given up on snow for this season, and resigned myself to another crappy winter, followed by a crappy baseball season. On the flip side, they’ve been right all along about how cold it was going to be. Whee! So they get some points.