Slightly Off the Mark

 If you've followed me long enough, you've probably heard of the Infamous Exploding Lawn Mower Incident.

But probably not--it happened a very long time ago, when my main social media was LiveJournal. Maybe I'll track it down and reprint it one day. It was quite the tale: mushroom clouds, HazMat response, involvement with both the ATF and the Federal Aviation Administration, a Time Magazine article entitled "Will Flying Lawn Mower Blades Cause Global Cooling?" To this day, it's believed an engine bolt is orbiting Earth.

Really, the only way I could top that would be to set fire to a snowblower. 

It couldn't be as bad as the mower. First of all, the snowblower was electric, and didn't have much power to begin with. That might be what killed it: Overwork. this is the first time I ever tried to run it through three foot snow drifts, and I suspect it was designed more for Texans who use them once every five years for a two inch catastrophe.

Besides, it was four degrees, and still snowing. A shovel full from a foot away, and any small appliance fire is out. I've responded to grass fires where I just stepped out of the fire engine and stomped the flames out with my boot--it was like that. Embarrassing. A wafting wisp of smoke, to be poetic.

Which doesn't mean the incident won't get bigger and bigger, every time I describe it. By the turn of the decade it will involve a blizzard, the National Guard, and the Space Force zapping parts out of orbit.

What happened? Well, the snowblower acted a lot like my back: It complained mildly, then it screamed in agony, then it stopped working. I put ice on both of them.

I suspect it burned out a belt thingy, as happened last year with our vacuum cleaner. (The snowblower, not my back.) There was smoke then, too. In that case I replaced the broken belt, and it still wouldn't work right. Now we have a new vacuum cleaner that I'm afraid to use.

Will I try to fix the snowblower? Probably not. We got it on clearance, it's four years old, and every light in the house dimmed whenever I plugged it in. I probably should consider myself lucky for not being electrocuted the first time, let alone trying to replace a belt thingy. Besides, I'm only assuming there is a belt thingy.

The good news is that the neighbors on either side of me have real snowblowers, the gas powered kind. They've always been nice to me, at least since the restraining order prevented me from singing outside. 

 I should consider myself fortunate the DHS didn't set up a tent in our yard again--it killed all the grass, last time.

Maybe that was for the best.

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Remember: Most authors are so mechanically incompetent they need book sales to pay for home repairs.

  I posted this a few years ago, but it's about winter generally, which makes it an evergreen. So to speak. The funny thing is, within days of me deciding to rerun it, the snow started melting away. I should write a song about freezing rain, or fog.

I hate winter. Well, only if I have to go out in it, or pay for heating the house, or if it’s winter. Otherwise I don’t mind. Anyway, parody songs are only good if you’re familiar with the original, which in this case is “Let It Go” from Frozen. If you have kids of a certain age, you’ve not only heard it, you’re sick of it. (I’m not–but my kids are all grown up, and I’ve only seen the movie once.) If you haven’t heard it, here’s the song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QnN6glKaWdE

Or see the original lyrics here: 

https://genius.com/Idina-menzel-let-it-go-lyrics
 

I know what you’re thinking: “Why, Mark? Why?” Good question—I don’t even find it easy. But I present you with: “Stop the Snow”.

 

But ... I'm so cool!

The snow’s piled high almost to my thigh
It’s so cold I want to scream
No sign of spring salvation
I’m stuck in a snow globe dream

The wind howls through windows, bringing swirling snow inside
Couldn’t keep it out, plastic sheets I tried

Let the dog in, his frozen pee
Is an icicle I never want to see
My hands can’t feel—this weather blows
Thanks to the snow

Stop the snow, stop the snow
Can’t get my car unstuck
If I had enough dough
I’d move away from all this yuck
I know just what the forecasts say
Get your storm rage on
I’m stuck in my drive anyway.

It’s funny how this temperature
makes everything seem blue
And if you don’t see the misery
there’s something wrong with you.

It’s time to go and break the ice
To start the car, oh please play nice
No lights, no juice, not to be rude
I’m screwed

Stop the snow, stop the snow
Just one day when it’s warm and dry
Car won’t go in the snow
Ice falls down from tears I cry
Here I push in four foot drifts
Till my hands freeze on …

A patch of ice takes me to the ground
Underneath the snow it’s all cold, dead and brown
And one thought penetrates my frozen brain
Summer’s not so bad—I don’t mind the rain

Stop the snow, stop the snow
My car’s buried in five foot drifts
I can’t feel, my own toes
I’ll never make it to my shift
My hands are blue and my face is white
I could use a lift
But the snow plow buries and passes by.
 

 As a group, humans have an amazing ability to screw themselves.

Not literally, mind you. I mean, if we could do that, we'd never leave the house.

Whenever bad weather approaches, I take it upon myself to warn people as much as I'm able, for two reasons: First, it's the decent thing to do. This is a foreign concept for some people, but it's not like it takes a lot of resources to type "Funnel cloud sighted! And by the way, buy my books in the Storm Chaser series."

Okay, so I throw in a commercial here and there: So does The Weather Channel.

Meh ... I've seen worse.

The second reason is laziness. I'm a dispatcher, and whenever severe weather hits we're guaranteed to be a lot busier. I don't like being a lot busier. A little busy is just fine, thank you.

So as soon as the experts (I'm not an expert--it turns out the words "meteorology" and "degree" go together) predicted foul weather for the upcoming Christmas weekend, I shouted it from the rooftops.

Okay, well, I shouted it from social media. Nobody really listens on the rooftops, anymore. Besides, it's slippery up there.

Some people appreciate the warning, and I like to think I've saved them some trouble, here and there. But the biggest response weather forecasts get is "Yeah, whatever--they're always wrong".

Which isn't true, but it is true that bad weather is notoriously difficult to predict in detail. Good weather's much easier--go figure.

Which brings us to the second and more common response: "Yeah, it probably won't even flurry." Followed by two parties and twelve beers, because we're talking about people who don't recognize danger signs.

"What's this crap? Why was I not notified?"

As of this moment, late Monday, forecasters are guaranteeing two things in northern Indiana this weekend: It'll be bitterly cold, and it'll be so windy I'll be bitter. It also appears pretty certain that--surprise!--the whole thing will begin with rain on Thursday.

More rain means less snow. I'm all for that, except for the strong cold front and the whole flash freezing thing. Flash Freezing is not a DC comic villain, people.

Everyone is stressing over snow, and as of now the forecast really is between 2 and 18 inches. It depends on the track of the storm and how far the wind drives lake effect snow, but here's the part people ignore: While we may get the low end of that scale, there's no reason why we shouldn't get the high end. To compare, during the Blizzard of '78 Fort Wayne got about 17 inches of snow. Somebody in the Midwest is going to get that much this weekend. Why not us?

Given the choice, I'd prefer my car remain in the driveway. All winter.

Forget snow amounts, and consider this: There is more than one kind of blizzard. One type often happens after snowstorms, when sustained strong winds blow the fallen snow around, causing drifting and extreme driving hazards.

Snow, followed by cold temps and long-term strong winds?

That's the forecast for this weekend.

So I'm just the messenger, with some reminders:

Four wheel drive is useless on ice. The only good your big truck might do is help compensate for something.

Many emergency vehicles and tow trucks do NOT have four wheel drive, and 4WD might not get through severe drifting, anyway. So if you have to go out, stock your vehicle with whatever you might need to survive for awhile.

Most county and municipal snow plows will not be out 24/7. They have only one shift, and the drivers need rest. If you have to go out stick to main roads, but remember: If it gets bad enough long enough, the Indiana Department of Transportation might have to pull their plows off the road, also.

If your employer requires you to come to work no matter what the road conditions, you need a new employer. Or let them come pick you up, if they think it's not bad. With the exception of essential jobs (like mine, but I can slog down the sidewalk), there's no reason to endanger someone for the sake of a paycheck.

Utility companies also can't come out if the roads are blocked. Make preparations for long-term power outages.

Here's the fun part: Almost everything done to prepare for a snowstorm should be done to prepare for any disaster or weather emergency. Food, water, medicine, warmth, books, not necessarily in that order.

You might think I'm kidding about the books, but if you have kids at home you need to look after your own sanity, and locking them in the garage is not socially acceptable. Remember, whatever they do to pass the time, they'll run out of battery power sooner or later.

As for me, don't you worry: I may have to work this weekend, but I'll dress warmly.

My other car is a sleigh!

Don't forget, Coming Attractions remains free on Smashwords for the rest of the year:

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That just isn't as catchy as the Blizzard of '78, but it never quite got to blizzard status--it was just a regular snowstorm. At least, it was compared to weather in the old days. You know the story: We walked to school five miles every day, uphill both ways, dodging polar bears and wading through ten foot drifts in the morning, then in the afternoon using our ten deep pile of school books as shade against the 102 degree sun. Plus we painted our feet black, because we couldn't afford shoes.

And we were happy to have that paint.

Cars? We didn't have cars. Our parents rode dinosaurs, and not those big ones either--they had to ride those little, chicken size ones, which was fine with them because they needed the eggs.

The story gets better every year. When I tell it to my grandkids, I'm going to add murder hornets and clowns.

But in recent years we've been, shall we say, spoiled. I joined the fire department in 1980, and for the next ten years our name for twelve inches of snow was "a good start". One year we got a snowstorm like last week's every weekend for the whole winter. This idea of seeing what was under the snow between November and March was inconceivable. I remember during the April grass fire season when we had to walk around snow drifts to get to the burning grass.

I don't miss it.

The dog loved this. He'd go lay in the snow, and I had to make him come back inside. But me? I hate cold, and I hate the short days. I guess the snow would be okay if it was warm and the days were long, but that's not how it works. It doesn't help that my old frostbite injuries are acting up so much I started losing the use of my hands while shoveling, even with gloves on.

I didn't always feel that way. When I was young, I'd use a snow day as an excuse to go out and play in the snow. Maybe I'm suffering a form of PTSD, because doing that is how I got the frostbite.

So, suddenly a winter wonderland is a winter torture land.

Like everyone else, I got complacent, so this storm became the 2000's equivalent of the '78 blizzard. Snow, wind ... and the cold. If it was a country, it would be Iceland. If it was a Civil War Battle, it would be Cold Harbor. If it was a city, it would be Coldwater. If it was a 90s rapper, it would be Vanilla Ice. If it was a rap song I've never actually heard, it would be Ice Cold.

If it was revenge, it would be best served cold.

The weather got so nasty, I took all these pictures from within twenty feet of my home. I got lucky and was on days off during the worst of the storm, and didn't otherwise have to go out, thanks to four appointments getting canceled. It gave me a taste of what it must be like to just stay inside and wait it out, and I gotta tell you ...

I enjoyed that. I enjoyed it like ... ice cream.

 Hunter's Law of Diminishing Returns states that the more I prepare for something, the less likely it is to happen. This is why I always try to be prepared for winter. It's also why I put out dire warnings whenever severe weather is predicted: If I warn of ten inches of snow, wildfires, or tornadoes, it's less likely a fire tornado will cause severe blowing and drifting.

That doesn't always work.

Three years ago I bought a small electric snowblower. There were three reasons for this: first, shoveling out my driveway is a game for the young, of which I no longer am. Second, my old frostbite injuries have really started acting up in recent years. Even with gloves on, my hands become stiff, painful, and useless, kind of like Congress. Third, and in correlation with the previously described law, owning a snowblower made it less likely to be needed.

Also, a month ago I bought a new pair of boots. My old rubber boots started to leak, and also weren't insulated--and my toes have frostbite damage, too. So, between the snowblower and the boots, I figured we were safe from a bad snowstorm--at least, for awhile.

Which brings me to Hunter's Diminishing Return Correlation: The more confident I am that nothing's going to happen because I prepared for it, the more likely it is to happen, anyway.

Here's a spoiler line from my new novel in progress: "Nice boots". It loses something out of context.

This week we got nine or ten inches of snow, the exact amount being hard to tell because of the gusty winds, which also reminds me of Congress. Now, the most snow we've had in the two years before that was only a few inches at a time. While the snowblower worked in that, I found it wasn't all that much easier than just using a snow shovel. Just the same, when I got home from work at 6 a.m. and realized my car couldn't get more than a foot into the driveway, I figured it was time to break it out.

(I live on a state highway, and work less than a mile away--so in my experience the real driving adventure is parking after the plows have been through.)

Well. This blows.

Hunter's Law of Power Tools #7 is that the more I need a tool, the less likely it is to start. This is why I got an electric snowblower instead of a gas powered one: Fewer parts to break. That worked out for me this time, because it turns out snow in the 1-2 foot range is right in my little device's wheelhouse: It ran like a champ, and got my driveway clear enough to park almost before my hands went numb.

No one was more surprised than I was.

I didn't  bother trying to get it TOO clean--more snow was predicted later in the week.

Being able to park made the people who wanted to get by on the state highway happy. Hey, I left my car's four way flashers on, and it only took an hour--they couldn't just detour?

By then I was unable to move my fingers, so I called it a day and tackled opening the front door with my teeth, which are now also frostbit. I planned to shovel the sidewalk the next day, but my neighbor, whose dog is either a best friend of our dog or a mortal enemy (I don't speak dog), pulled out his big honkin' gas powered snowblower and cleared both mine and his. I'm extremely grateful for that, because my extension cord is only so long.

What's going to happen next? I'm betting flood. Just in case, I'm stocking up on buckets.

(Note: Flooding wasn't next--it was freezing fog.)

Okay, I joke about it because that's what I do, but it's time to get serious about the weather. It's horrible out there. Not "let's make jokes about milk and bread" horrible, but honest to goodness, you're taking your own life into your hands if you go out horrible.

Between the snow that already fell and what came down yesterday there are several inches on the ground. At some point yesterday it turned for a time into rain/sleet, so there's now a coating of ice that was followed by more snow, some of which is still falling. Now the winds have picked up, so snow is drifting--over a layer of ice.

Roads are drifting shut; as of about midnight Monday night US 33 in western Noble County is down to one lane in several areas, let alone the county roads. With drifting, drivers often encounter sections of road that seem fine, only to suddenly come across snow covered areas--in this case, over ice. Stopping times will be severely effected. Four wheel drive is fine in snow, but in these conditions it can be worse than useless, giving drivers a false sense of security. White out conditions are also being reported.

(County Highway crews will be out in the morning, but I don't know what time--and with the continued winds, I don't know how effective they can be. INDOT will be having the same problems.)

Add to that the fact that temperatures are going to get so low that ice melting materials will stop being effective.

We haven't even talked about wind chills. Strong winds will blow that snow around for the next couple of days, and temperatures will hit record lows--that means not only getting pulled off the road but stuck in drifts, and getting out to dig could mean frostbite in just a few minutes.

Take it seriously. Do not go out unless you have absolutely no choice (I'm afraid I can't do anything about work requirements). If you do have to travel for any reason, have a full gas tank and emergency supplies, and remember that if you get stuck, it might take awhile for help to get to you.

A forecast for Thursday says "not as cold. Highs near zero." That should tell you something.

I posted this back in February of last year, and for some reason I started thinking of it again this weekend. Really, it works best if you have the music playing in the background while you’re reading it.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­____________________________________________________

Maybe you’ve seen “Frozen”. Maybe you’ve been frozen. Either way, I think you can relate to how I changed the song’s words, to reflect my feelings about winter. If you’re not familiar with the song, just ask any kid. If they don’t have the soundtrack or a karaoke version, they can probably still hum the tune from memory.

"I Don’t Want To Build a Snowman"
 (sung to the tune of Do You Want to Build a Snowman)

I don’t wanna build a snowman. 
Come on, are you crazy?
I’m not going near that frozen door
Call me a bore
I’m not going to freeze today.           

I’m used to being warm
and when I’m not
I wish that I could die!

I don’t wanna get the frostbite.
I don’t want to see fingers white.

Go away, Winter.
Okay? Bye...


I don’t wanna build a snowman.
Or get hit with wet snowballs.
I think the outside may be for you,
I don’t like turning blue
and suffering from falls.

(Just hangin’ at home.)

I’ll stoke a fire or two
Staying in my room,
and at least then I won’t die.
(Brrrrrrr)

Please don’t make me go out there,
People are asking when it will end.
They say their skin has turned to ice,
Out there it’s not so nice:
Just go back in.

We’re not such a fan
Of this icy land,
But what are you gonna do?  

I don’t wanna build a snowman. [sniff]

____________________________

So ... should I post my next great song, "Stop the Snow"?

But ... I'm so cool!

SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

I love January! Said no one, ever.

Okay, some people actually do love winter, which just goes to show you: Northern Indiana needs better mental health screening. I used to take part in winter activities, but I was young then, and young people just haven’t learned that being miserable isn’t an adventure.

When I was a kid, I loved sledding, snowball fights, and not having to pay the utility bills. Well, I liked them … I never did warm up all that much to winter. Then, one day when I was about fourteen, I came in from building a snow block fort to discover my hands and toes had themselves become snow blocks. My cheeks had taken on a white, Frosty-like sheen.

My face cheeks. Get your mind out of my insulated underwear.

Thawing out involved a process not unlike being stabbed with a thousand white-hot pins and needles, and from that time on I couldn’t stay in cold weather for long before the affected parts started to feel like they’d been shotgunned full of rock salt. It took all the fun out of it.

Today, my favorite wintertime activities involve a book and a cup of hot chocolate. So January does have an advantage: I can catch up on my reading. But that doesn’t really make up for the gas bill.

SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

            “Tragedy in Churubusco when three residents went on a walk to show off their spring clothes during the warm up this morning, and were later found frozen to death. Their bodies were originally scheduled to be cremated, but couldn’t be thawed fast enough.”

            This is why writers should live in Indiana; that kind of stuff just writes itself.

            Oh, I know, I’ve talked a lot about the weather this year. It’s only April—whatever will my columns be about in July? Heat, I’m guessing. But we came close this spring to actually having that snow tornado I used to joke about, so if you’re interested in weather at all, it’s been an interesting year.

            “Mental health officials are seeing a sudden spike in emotional breakdowns after people went out last week to mow their lawns, only to find two inches of snow on the ground.”

            You don’t even have to make it up: That actually happened to me last week, except that I went to the door to bring the dog in. His frostbite/heat exhaustion is healing nicely, by the way.

            It’s one of the few times I actually dropped the F-bomb in public. I opened the door that morning and stood there for a moment, honestly puzzled about why everything outside had a strange white coloring to it. Then the dog came storming in as if a snow tornado was chasing him, and he was covered in white. He shook himself, and a winter storm developed in my kitchen.

            Then I looked outside and said, “What the fudge?!?!”

            Only, to quote writer Jean Shepherd, I didn’t say fudge.

            The neighbors have teenagers, but since it was early morning I’m hopeful they didn’t hear me. If they did, they probably thought something like, “Hey, they had that word when he was a kid!” Then I’d yell “Get off my lawn!” and it would be downhill from there.

            Anyway, this is Indiana. Worse, this is northern Indiana, within the range of lake effect snow while too far away to actually play in the waves, assuming the waves haven’t frozen themselves into some Salvador Dali shape.

            (Yes, I’m a small town Midwestern boy who actually knows who Salvador Dali is. Okay, I looked him up. What’s with the melting clocks? Is it August?)

            Sorry if this column seems a little disjointed: There have been so many barometric pressure changes this month that my sinuses exploded, and I’ve been off balance ever since. Which brings me back to my point: We’re used to big weather extremes, to such an extent that many people actually say “I wish it would just stay cold, instead of going up and down like this.” That’s a concept we pay for in January, when the missing Polar ice cap often lingers in the fields just outside of Huntertown.

            By the way, Huntertown wasn’t named after my family. It actually stems from the Indian world “Hunyukcoldon”, which means “The snow’s melting, grab your sandbags”.

            Anyway …

            What brought all this up was last week, when it hit the mid 70’s here in Albion. Then thunderstorms came through. Then the next day I walked out on the front porch and not only was everything covered in snow, but it felt and even smelled like winter. The next night we reached a record cold temperature. The day after that it hit 60.

            The day after that I boarded up all my doors and windows, and set fire to my boots.

            Is it any wonder everyone’s talking about the weather? I mean, except the Weather Channel. I had it on at work for eight hours the other night, and every time I glanced up I saw … no weather. Only a scroll across the bottom of the screen explaining that the weather for the next hour would be delayed by a very special episode of “Extreme Ice Road Air Rescue Fishing With The Stars”.

In their defense, thanks to The Weather Channel, I now know a great deal about tow truck drivers, steel construction workers, the Coast Guard, and Mars. Still, I can’t help thinking a name change is in order.

            But who can blame them? Reality programming gives them a chance to sit back, take a breath, and try to figure out what the fudge is going on in Indiana.