Finally yesterday we had some snow in New York City. Not a big storm but more than snow showers or flurries. All winter long I have waited to see them fall outside my window. The cats are finally happy as they attempt through the window to catch the flakes and stop them in their tracks. There is simply no one that loves snow more than me. Childhood was when I developed my love affair with snow. The bigger the better was my motto. The beauty of a light dusting of snow was never enough. Blizzards would put me into total spasms of joy.
When the weathermen would issue their first forecast over the radio I would live by the hour to see if it would materialize or be a false alarm. Before satellites and fancy named radar screens, they forecasted the weather the old fashion way...by the seat of their pants! Upon waking in my small rural bedroom I would run to the window hopefully to catch flakes mixed in with a howling northeast wind. The next stop would always be WSNJ radio to see if the endless listing of schools by the announcer would include Daretown Elementary.
Behind our house the fields were flat and extended for a mile or two. Our home would be the first barrier to the blowing snow. Huge six to eight foot drifts would wrap around the house and farm buildings. The road in front of the house with a raised embankment acted as a 'snow fence and the perfect place to build snow forts and tunnels. We knew the snowplows might take a day or two to work their way through to us in a really bad storm. Our complex of snow tunnels was impressive and any person serving time in prison attempting to escape would envy our tunnel system.
As I grew older I would love to say I outgrew this passionate love affair with winter. Alas it has only grown worse. With abated breath I follow every forecast of snow and still upon awakening run to the window. In my last year in Turkey Hollow, I was recovering from one of my surgeries and my dear friend Steven Guy had come to nurse me back to health. The doctor had ordered bed rest but I woke up to a raging snowstorm. Running from window to window in my rural hideaway I couldn't contain my excitement.
Steven did his best and kept ordering me back to bed. In total defiance and made delirious by the snowfall, I refused his requests and continued to stay up desperate not to miss the magnificent storm. With the authority of a prison guard, Steven once again demanded that I listen to the doc and get back in bed. Refusing I defiantly said I would go into the blizzard and do a naked snow dance. Challenging me he said go ahead and be a fool. Whipping off my clothes and with a bandaged neck from the surgery I dashed outdoors to do a "naked snow dance" singing here comes "Suzy Snow Flake" in front of the house!
Unfortunately for me I fell backwards into a huge snowdrift and couldn't get up. That damn Steven took his everlasting time before getting his coat and hat on to pull me shivering out of the drift. I learned my lesson....well, maybe I learned it. After all, there is always that next big storm isn't there? Hell's Kitchen should be on the alert for an older heavy man with a distinguished cane dancing naked in the streets.