Don't Fall for Another Snow Job

Written By: Bob Rehak
Edited By: Sharon Estill
Joboja Staff Writers

Welcome to East Denver. That’s what I think the sign should say at O’Hare as tourists land in Chicago this month. With all the snow we’ve had so far this year, it sure feels like we live in the mountains. The weather has been the top story on the ten o’clock news for a few months now. It’s funny too, because people take the weather so seriously. Every time we get another snowfall, people get downright surly about it.

“Another four inches last night! Man, it just keeps adding to the record. Why did my parents ever decide to live here? Why? For the love of God, why?”

You’ll hear people cite the weather statistics at work: “112 inches since December. Most we’ve had in 32 years.” Yet ask those same people to cite the weight and length of their kids when they were born, and they have no idea. The weather fascinates us, irritates us and complicates our lives.

And the weathermen are getting bipolar-bear on us. One the one hand, they’re loving all the attention, being the lead story every night. On the other hand, they’re getting attitude from the news anchors. The anchor will turn to the weatherman and say, “When will this end, Jerry? Another snowstorm is headed our way this weekend. What do you have to say about that?” Then they give Jerry the disapproving look of an 8^th grade teacher when she has to give the class clown the floor for his summer vacation speech.

I know that everyone is sick and tired of all this snow. Heck, I’ve resisted mentioning it myself; hoping it would all just go away and we could just start planting tulips on the weekend. I had that same thought as you on Groundhog Day when you saw Punxsutawney Phil come out and see his shadow...(hmmmmm…that groundhog would make a nice coat…).

By the way, that whole groundhog-predicting rule is backwards, isn’t it? According to the little bugger, if he sees his shadow, we’re in for six more weeks of winter. Does that make any sense? If he sees his shadow, doesn’t that mean it’s a sunny day? Mrs. Hall taught me in kindergarten over 40 years ago that the sun was good; a smiling orb that was Nature’s Santa Claus. So why does a sunny day equate to 42 more days of winter in groundhog world? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Shouldn’t it be six more weeks of winter if Philip never saw his shadow on February 2^nd? Wouldn’t that mean it was an overcast day? Someone look into this rule and get back to me, please. I think the little rodent is pulling a scam.

Now that Phil and Brookfield Zoo’s own Cloudy the groundhog have doomed us until April, there are two ways to deal with this news (three if you count running away). You can continue to damn the cold and the snow and risk emerging from this winter with the demeanor of a high schooler given Moby Dick to read over spring break, or you can embrace the cold and the snow and welcome it into your life, even dare it to try and bring you down.

I choose the latter approach. You should look at all this snow as a good thing. For example, you can look at the past three months as justification for buying that all-wheel-drive, eight-cylinder SUV. So what if it’s costing you $98 a week just to go to Jewel for more sidewalk salt? At least you’ve got great traction.

You can tell yourself that all this snow is good for the water table and that come August, we’ll all wish for these days that have been so cold that your eyelashes break off. (That thought never works, but it’s what my Mom used to tell us every time she turned the thermostat down to 65 in January to save on the heating bill).

You can look at the snow as adult Legos. Build something with it. For some reason the current younger generation has no interest in snow forts. When was the last time you saw one in your neighborhood? Build one in your front yard to remind them what one looks like. If they still think it’s lame, run an extension cord into it and put an X-Box inside. Think of it as a mousetrap for teens.

Start a snowball fight with some kids. Any kids. You don’t even have to know them. You run away; they run away. You charge at them; they charge at you. Rounds and rounds of balls of ice and snow are exchanged at high rates of speed. It’s a good workout for everyone. Sure, occasionally someone catches an earful of snow, but that builds character and creates lasting memories. Plus, you don’t even know those kids, so what do you care?

If you’re really sick of the snow, create snow crop circles on the neighbor’s lawn when he’s asleep. The next morning he’ll look out his window and call the Channel 7 Eyeteam to investigate. You get a good laugh, and he gets Chuck Goudie’s autograph. It’s a win-win situation.

Trust me; all this snow will be gone soon enough. I’ve seen some telltale signs that it’s almost over. Pitchers and catchers have already reported to Spring Training. My sump pump spits out a few gallons of water every 22 minutes. And the surest sign yet that spring is almost here: Tom Skilling just saw his shadow!