Bill's Musings

There’s a four letter word that starts with the letter ‘s’, is sticky to the touch, and is perversely loved by some but hated by many. It’s everywhere you don’t want it to be, sticks to your shoes, and people have devoted much time and effort to get rid of it so it doesn’t pile up everywhere.

Snow. Ugh. That four letter word that really has no place in my vocabulary, unless I’m saying something like ‘Man, I hate snow!’, or ‘’Do you remember living in a place that has snow? I sure don’t miss THAT!’

I know, I know. We need snow for our ecosystem, so that the lakes, rivers, and aquifers get replenished. I realize all that. It’s just that I hate it. And lately, I think I hate it more than ever. I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older, or if maybe I’m wimpier. But now I see snow as the total opposite thing that I did when I was a child.

When I was a little boy, snow stirred excitement in my life. Snow meant ‘opportunity’, it meant ‘play’, it meant that we had some ice coming on the river, and tons of things to do outside. I realize now that there were always tons of things to do outside, and that having snow simply meant there were different things to do. Boy, was I dumb.

And don’t give me the argument ‘Yes, but the snowmobilers need the snow, and thus our economy depends on it….’. How many people actually own a snowmobile? Seriously. In 100 people, how many actually have one? Three? Maybe three. But 100 out of 100 have to trudge through the stuff for roughly 5 months a year, forgoing the pleasures of trees with leaves, green grass, the splendor of walking about in shorts and a t-shirt rather than a parka and long-johns. Boots? Hate them. Extra socks? Give me a break. Thermal underwear? Go away! Toques? My poor hair!! Well, that last one is more or less a wash now, as said hair is no longer presenting itself as plentifully as previously.

I used to work in the Arctic. Where the Inuit live. The land of ice and snow. I’ve heard that Eskimos have more than 100 ways to say ‘snow’. But those I worked with, when asked, admitted they liked it better when the snow went away, even if it was just for a month or two. Those 100 words for snow? They were probably all swear words.

At the beginning of the season, people are so happy to see it. ‘Oh, look!’ they’d exclaim. ‘Snow! How lovely! Let’s dance and sing and throw snowballs and build snowmen! And we can just shovel over to the side so that our driveways are clear! And, it’s great exercise!!’ Now, as I drive down the street, I hear in my mind what those same people are saying in their heads as they look for places to put all this crap that keeps arriving as if sent by the Devil himself. The words that they are saying are no longer sweet, innocent, lovely words. Oh no. They are expletive-laced invectives that would surely shock a sailor. If we could harness the energy being expelled through these not-so-kind words, we’d likely solve the energy crisis.

So. We all know now that I hate snow. And winter, for that matter. Bring me summer-like heat, palm trees, and maybe even a pina colada. I think I’ve earned it.