“Your taun-taun will freeze before you reach the outer marker!”
“Then I’ll see you in Hell!”
It’s been snowing most of the day today and as of the current moment — roughly 1.30 in the morning — there is a good five inches piled up on the back deck. If I had any sense at all, I’d have stayed in tonight with a nice bottle of brandy and watched Blade Runner. But since I’m basically a dumbass who thinks it’s a good idea to be sociable with friends on a Saturday night, I took Anne up to Bountiful to visit with Jack and his lovely Mrs. We had a pleasant evening, discussed many interesting things, bowled our usual pathetic games while ogling the teenage beauty-school dropouts playing in the next lane over (well, Jack and I did the ogling; Anne and Nat made fun of us for being dirty old men), and generally had a good time. Then it was time to go home…
Our first clue that conditions had deteriorated while we were inside the bowling alley came when we couldn’t return Jack and Nat to their house. You see, back when they were looking for a suitable home in which to plant their dreams, they had the audacity to purchase a place up on the benches above Bountiful. (Residents of the Salt Lake area will know what I’m talking about – for anyone else who may be reading, the “benches” are basically the foothills above the valley. The rate of climb from the valley floor is fairly high, but normally isn’t much of a problem. Normally.) In the summertime, this lofty perch affords them a good view of some very nice sunsets over The Big Smelly Pond (a.k.a. the Great Salt Lake). In the wintertime, however, their neighborhood gets slammed with “lake effect” storms that dump twice as much snow on them as anywhere else in the state. Again, this isn’t usually much of a problem, but tonight the snow fell on the slush that was already there from earlier, and that big hill turned into an obstacle that I’m afraid my driving skills just weren’t sufficient to overcome. We only made it about halfway up before it became very evident that we weren’t going any farther. The tires just couldn’t find enough traction to keep us moving forward.
At this point, Jack and Nat told us to turn around and head for home, they would walk the rest of the way. I would guess it was about a mile to their house. Uphill. In the snow. In a snowstorm, no less. I have no doubt that Jack will one day tell this story to his child-to-be as some sort of warning against going bowling with beauty-school students on a Saturday night.
Anne and I really had no choice but to let them out, but I have to say that I really didn’t feel very good turning my friends out into the snow that way, especially one who’s expecting. It was embarassing, and I worried about their safety (not to mention thier comfort). So, Jack and Nat, if you’re reading this, you have my profoundest apologies. I felt like a damn fool driving away from you like that, and hope you got home without too much trouble.
As for Anne and me, our trouble was only beginning. We got back down the hill without too much trouble, crept onto the freeway and headed for home. Passing cars threw geysers of slush at the windshield and kept me blind a good part of the time. The car hydroplaned so often I found myself imagining I was the captain of a cigarette boat running reefer out of the Florida Keys. Luckily, we came up behind a trio of snowplows that were headed our way, so we tucked in behind them and let them clear a path for us. Finally, after an hour of white-knuckle driving, we made it home. In one piece, I’m happy to report.
So, what does any of this matter, aside from the apology to Jack and Nat? I guess it doesn’t, really, except that I wanted to do some grumbling. I’m sick of this winter shit! We had a couple of 50-degree days earlier in the week and now we’re dealing this crap again and I find it really annoying!
Utah has been in a drought for several years now. The moisture is welcome and I don’t want to look a gift reservoir-filler in the mouth… but come on! Why does it always have to be famine-or-feast in this wilderness I call home? Sheesh…
While I was driving through this glop tonight, I found myself thinking of my buddy Jeremy. He used to live in Phoenix and now calls Las Vegas home. He says he’ll never come back to Salt Lake because he’s learned to appreciate the warmer climes. I’ve never understood how he could say that. How could anyone give up the changing of the seasons for a place where the only variation is hot and hotter? But after tonight’s drive home, I thinking that, Jer, old pal, you just might be on to something…
