Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow ... no, really, please?
This week, for obvious reasons, we're going with something a bit gentler in this space -- lighter and fluffier, if you will ...
Speaking of which, is this whole lack of snow thing starting to get to anybody else? I mean, ordinarily I don't particularly care for a great many aspects of that specific weather phenomenon. I don't like shoveling it, or driving in it, or slipping and falling on my ample backside on it.
But I am starting to feel a bit like Joni Mitchell, who poetically posed the question: "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?" Because I gotta be completely honest here. I feel like late last night I heard the screen door slam, and a big yellow taxi took away my Old Man Winter.
Listen, if we'd wanted this kind of bogus weather in January, we'd have moved to Albuquerque. Am I right?
The other day, a friend of mine texted me with this simple message: "Column idea. Wash your car to make it snow."
Which got me to thinking. While certainly it's high time that our religious organizations in the state began stepping up their prayers for "moisture," I do believe this friend was right. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And it couldn't hurt for us to get all superstitious on the problem.
So here's the question of the day: What do you do to make it snow?
Personally, as my humble contribution to the effort, I've decided to continue to illuminate the colorful Christmas lights in our front yard each night until we get a good snowstorm. I don't know whether or not it will actually hasten a flurry of flakes, but it does have the added bonus of really irritating the neighbors.
And there's plenty more that can be done:
SBlt Take the snowblower in to the shop. This actually worked quite well a few years ago, as I have a number of friends who told the same basic story: Snowblower was running a bit rough, so they took it in to have it serviced. The very next day began a series of snowstorms the likes of which we haven't seen in recent memory. And when were their snowblowers finally ready for pickup? Why, the day after the last remnants of snow and ice finally melted off their north-facing driveways.
SBlt Put the golf clubs in the trunk of the car. Although not a golfer myself, I'm told by duffer friends that this all but guarantees severe weather -- often within a matter of minutes. And, as an added talisman: Take the ice and snow scraper out of the car, and leave it at home.
SBlt Wash the outside of the windows on your home. It should be pointed out, however, that this particular superstition should only be used as a last resort. Yes, it's guaranteed to bring a swirling, blowing precipitation, but I don't know anybody -- even the most die-hard skiers in the state -- who'd actually be willing to wash windows for it.
SBlt Write a column and/or news story about this season's deplorable lack of snow. It's like when you're watching a football game and the color commentator says, "Incredibly, Aaron Rodgers hasn't thrown an interception all year." And on the very next play? You guessed it.
SBlt And finally, of course, wash the car. Although vehicle-washing is a time-tested effective snow maker, personally I like to leave the heavy encrustation of salt and road grime on my ride. It acts as a sort of protective coating for the paint job.
But what we could really use right about now is a charity car wash or two. I call upon local youth groups throughout the Top of Utah to organize a series of car washes next weekend in an attempt to anger the weather gods and bring down the heavens upon us.
So then, any superstitions we're forgetting here? Please, feel free to email your suggestions, and I'll add them to the list.
But in the meantime, one final observation, if I may:
In years when we've had abnormal amounts of snow, media outlets have invariably done stories about how cities, counties and the state are exhausting their limited snow-removal budgets. So I'm just assuming that everyone has a surplus "slush fund" this year, right?
Well, what happens to that excess money? Are entities actually putting it away for a rainy day? Spending it on some other pressing government need? Putting it into an IRA (read: converting it to small, unmarked bills and running them through a paper shredder)?
Or maybe, just maybe, the various bureaucracies could use their surplus snow-removal funds for some other transportation-related purpose.
You know, like paving paradise and putting up a parking lot.
Contact Mark Saal, who's looked at clouds from both sides now, at 801-625-4272 or msaal@standard.net.
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