Remember when a snowstorm had to be more than 10 inches to
qualify as an event? Remember when your biggest problem was purloining a limp
carrot from the vegetable drawer to use for the snowman’s nose? Remember when you had to dress up like the
Michelin tire man to play outdoors way longer than you really wanted to? Those
were the days and they were far less complicated than today.
These days if the clouds gather we
have to hear about for weeks, read about it on the internet, tweet it to our
friends and family, and post pictures of it on Facebook.
There was no weather channel when I
was growing up. All I wanted to do on a snow day was watch a little more Mr.
Green Jeans and the Dancing Bear on Captain Kangaroo. Like today, I reveled in
wearing my pajamas a little longer than usual and I probably helped myself to
an extra bowl of Cheerios – and they weren’t covered in chemical-tasting honey
goodness back then.
Kids today know it’s going to snow
three weeks before it arrives. Their parents are consulting with “childcare
providers” about where they’ll spend the proposed snow day. They are gathering
weather facts from their iPhones, tracking the storm as it moves from Kansas to
Ohio to New Jersey, becoming a little more neurotic with each passing time
zone.
Finally, the “storm” arrives and
it’s dwindled to a dusting and the poor kid is going to school just like every
other day. Meanwhile, his digestion, not to mention his psyche, has been tampered
with for days while he watched his parents and his friend’s parents make plans
for the big “weather event.” He lay awake nights wondering just what type
of preparations had to be made, thinking his parents were some kind Svengalis
to pull off such intricate plans. He wondered if the bigger kids at the
“childcare provider” center would pick on him like they did during the last
snow day. And all for nothing.
I think maybe it was better for all of us when we woke up and
ran to the window, pulling the curtains back to behold six inches of feathery
snow. And we looked at it with nothing
other than sheer delight. I sure do miss Mr. Green Jeans.
He gives his harness bells a
shake
To ask if there is some
mistake.
The only other sound’s the
sweep
Of easy wind and downy
flake.
-
Robert
Frost
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