Archive for December 27th, 2010

Snowbound

There seems to be an inordinate amount of snow in the United States at present.

Not just in places where snow in late December is Normal—like, say, Buffalo, New York, or Icepick, Minnesota. Oh no.

For it is also besieging joints like Atlanta, Georgia, and Charleston, South Carolina, a couple of burgs where the white stuff has not put in an appearance since the 1880s—when, some say, God decided to send down snow in order to Punish People for abandoning Reconstruction (there in Genesis, The Dude promised never again to wash the world away in water, but he never said nothin’ ’bout sending snow; the guy is all about loopholes; methinks he’s a lawyer).

All day my radio has been asquawk with the sounds of half a million people marooned there up and down the Eastern seaboard, loudly expressing their displeasure, unable to get back to from where they came. For having journeyed for the holidays by plane and train and automobile to places now buried in the Snow Zone, they cannot, at present, Escape.

Heart attacks are also marching across the land. For my radio also informed me today that catastrophic cardiac events peak in the US each year around this time, as people leave tables groaning with food and wine, and television sets bellowing about men quarreling over balls, to go out and vigorously shovel snow—an activity to which their hearts say: “no.” Seems the heart must work harder to pump blood through the arms, than through the legs, and so when folks get jiggy with the shovel, Danger Lurks. This is especially true of this sort of snow, heavy snow, which appears to be known in the medical and meteorological communities as “heart-attack snow.”

I find this interesting, that the heart is less stressed in sending blood to the legs, than to the arms. I guess this settles the old Lizard Brain question of “fight or flight”: the heart votes for “flight.”

There are people who seek to blame Burning Man for this snowblind phenomena. And perhaps there is some truth in that, because the fellow has been unusually not-present over the past several days. It is possible that, abashed, he has gone into hiding.

However, as with most things, where there is bad, there is also good. So as counterpoint to the suffering that has come with this snow, I offer snow in the realm of pleasure. Specifically, a very nice snow poem authored by my daughter, the deviant. Make that the award-winning deviant.

In scrutinizing the fine print on the page where she has posted this poem, I find that in reproducing her work here, I may be treading upon her copyright. That’s okay. She’s welcome to sue. And, when she prevails, if I can’t come up with the necessary monetary damages, I’ll make up the rest by signing on to forever-after shovel clear her path.

Snow White Queen

First snow falls, a beautiful sight
white like you, but never as bright
soft and powdery, fresh and new
but nothing could ever be soft as you

Delicate, dancing, a graceful ballet
though never as graceful as you, I say
fascinated, you watch it fall
slowly cascading to cover all

Tiny paw prints in the snow
sparkle with enchanted glow
shivering paws, wet and cold
I warned you love, yes you were told

But you love to see the world covered in white
white like you, but never as bright

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