I hate snow. This hasn’t always been my take on those flurries that fall from the sky, but it’s high time we admit it: When you’re an adult, snow sucks.
Living in Columbus, Ohio is a weather roller coaster. It breaks down like this: We have two seasons, summer and winter. Summer lasts about four months and most days the humidity will melt the skin clean off your skull. Winter lasts about six months, and most days it’s testes-frozen-to-your-thigh cold. The other two months are devoted to flowers temporarily living until our rain-free summer kills them and leaves turning colors until our early and frigid winter kills them. Once we turn back the clocks and it’s dark at 5, you kind of start to wonder if life is worth living.
Columbus is a strange case when it comes to snow. We’re centrally located so we usually get some kind of wintry mix (the worst) or nothing at all (the best). But, every so often, we get THE SNOW. And people here freak the hell out. I routinely tell people I hate snow, and most people respond by looking at me like I’m some ghoul that just pushed their grandma down a flight of stairs at church on Christmas Eve. People consider it some kind of sacrilege and a borderline affront to their existence that I just can’t “get in the spirit” and love this stuff.
Like a lot of things in life, snow is a lot more fun when you’re a kid. I remember anxiously watching the news and rooting for an absolutely apocalyptic amount of snow so we’d get the day off. When that happened we’d do what kids always did: wait a few hours until the streets cleared and then go out to the movies, mall, or if there was enough snow, sledding. So treacherous! But these days could bite you in the ass. See, we only had five snow days to spend, so if you went over that, you were screwed come June when the year was supposed to be over and you’re making up days. Snow always gets the last laugh.
That was as steamy as my love affair with snow ever got. As a working adult, it’s the damn worst. For one, each storm is hyped up like a freakin’ Hunger Games movie. You should see the local news around here when there’s snow in the forecast – it’s gross. Warnings, “we’re looking out for you,” “the situation is evolving,” blah, blah, blah. Then if it does snow, they’re out of their minds. I kid you not, we had a few inches of snow last week and I actually saw a local news anchor look solemnly into the camera and say, “we’ll get through this together.”
And that’s just the news. The people go into full doomsday mode. The grocery stores are Armageddon, filled with people stocking up on food and water like they’re buying props for an episode of Doomsday Preppers. People are doing involuntary donuts with their bald tires in the parking lot. Oh, and the traffic. Within thirty minutes of the first flake it looks something like this:
You aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. So enjoy the view!
As an adult, loving snow feels like one of those things that people desperately hold onto, as if it’s really nostalgic, even when they know better. They can’t see the practicality of the matter, which is that it’s a huge pain in the ass unless you have absolutely nowhere to go and nothing to do. Even then, you’ll still be shoveling it at some point. There are twelve hours per year where I will accept snow: From 8:00pm to 8:00am on Christmas Eve and Christmas day. The rest of time I’m facing reality: snow is just another thing that can be outgrown.