Anatomy of a Blizzard

I live in New Jersey. This past weekend we had a little snowstorm. Our part of NJ was forecast to get 3-6 inches, and ended up with about that much. I want to give you a kind of timeline in the evolution of a “Blizzard” in my part of the world. All timelines are approximate. All insanity is real.

5:00 pm BB (Before Blizzard): Watching TV, the newscasters start yammering on about blizzards and snowstorms, etc.:

“The Storm of the Century is on the way! How can you avoid the latent cancer contained in each snowflake? We’ll tell you at Eleven.”

“Nor’easter on its way to blanket the Northeast over the weekend, get out your shovels! Why will the citizens of one state be murdered as a result? We’ll tell you which state and why at Eleven.”

“Snow will be falling at record rates this Saturday afternoon. We’ll tell you why flashlights and generators are likely to explode in your face violently at the worst possible time. Also, snowy recipes at Ten!”

“Was Frosty the Snowman gay? A Boston man says, ‘Yes he was’ and says he has the pictures to prove it. Details at Eleven.”

“Can snow shovels be used to carry babies to the emergency room? We’ll show you how at Eleven.”

7:00pm BB (Before Blizzard): As usual, following the announcement of the impending pile of snow to be dumped on our doorsteps (3-6 inches), the supermarket down the road from me was immediately under assault. The aisles were full of people with gallons of water, stacks of toilet paper, multiple dozens of eggs and stacks and stacks and stacks of paper towels. What do these people think is going to happen when six whole inches of snow falls on us? Are they going to stand in their kitchen looking out the window while drinking gallons of water and crapping themselves repeatedly? Gotta have 356 rolls of toilet paper, just in case! Oh, don’t forget the healing power of omelets! I can understand if you live in the backwoods of Kentucky and you routinely lose power for months at a time, but the suburbs of New Jersey with six inches of snow? A half hour of shoveling and you are back on the road (presumably to get more toilet paper to clean up the mounds of feces that snowstorms inevitably bring with it).

11:00 pm – 7:00 am DB (During Blizzard): Sleep for me until about 6 am, and then out to start the snow blower. Up and down my street, the sounds of snow blowers starting and big clouds of snow shooting up into the sky. Neighborhood men all blowing snow (no jokes) early in the morning really gets your blood pumping.

Camps are divided into two: ‘Just get enough snow cleared so I can get my car out of the driveway’ and ‘Get every snowflake off of my driveway and sidewalk so I can win the snow blowing competition that no one else realizes they are a part of’.

8:00 am AB (After Blizzard): The driveway and roads are clear enough to take the family to breakfast while wondering aloud what all of those panicking idiots are going to do with their 20 gallons of water and 345 pounds of toilet paper.

There you have it. Hours of build up and panic with no payoff. Kind of like my senior prom night.