Snow Day

Kids, I dunno where you live, but here in Hoboken located in the northeastern United States, we’re expecting a lot of snow sometime today. Which means that I will be shoveling until I collapse and fall asleep in a drift, leaving to fate whether I am discovered by neighbors in time.

I grew up around here, so I’ve been shoveling snow my entire life. Even when I went away to college and rented for a while, I usually had to shovel around my car quite a bit in order to free it. When The Duchess and I bought a house a few years ago I cleverly selected a rowhouse which has only 12.5 feet of sidewalk in front of it, thus limiting my legal liability for shoveling snow (my parents instilled in me a great fear of the Random Meanspirited Lawsuit stemming from some poor soul slipping in front of your property). Unfortunately my Sainted Mother still lives in the house I grew up in, a mere 15 minute walk away, and thus I get to shovel her sidewalk every time it snows too. And she lives on a corner lot. With a driveway.

My frail physical condition aside, the main question is one of gear: Sure, it’ll be cold out, but snow weather always seems warmer than it actually is (or maybe that’s a tumor making me feel that way, who knows?) and once I get a real wheezing sweat going, being bundled up can become swampy and uncomfortable. And frequent nips from my Survival Flask will only worsen that condition, as I dehydrate and actually lower my core temperature while the alcohol makes me feel otherwise. All this leads inexorably and unfortunately to me shoveling snow with no pants on, in order to stay cool.

There: A shocking glimpse into my personal life. Aren’t you glad you stopped by? And if you live in the area, for god’s sakes come help me shovel. I’ll pay you in unbought copies of Lifers.



  1. Damaso

    Even better we could come over and plan on how to shovel, you know, over scotch. That way when we go outside we A) wont be cold and B) have a good excuse for how long it takes us to do a bad job!

  2. jsomers

    Either way, it ends the same: Me, dead of hypothermia, pantsless. Just faster.

Comments are closed.