Kowabunga

Kowabunga

When Life Gives You Snow…

Another snowstorm. Another round of dire warnings by our local weather celebrities. Another day of scraping, shoveling and skidding.

They say that spring is right around the corner. If I were named after a European capital instead of my father’s third grade teacher, I’d wait it out around the corner in Tahiti. But what’s a poor working girl to do?

Not being one to mope (complain, yes, mope, no), I’ve come up with Plans A, B and C to cope with the next few weeks. I like to call it my “when life gives you snow, make snow cones” program.

Plan A: Exchange Aunt Fritzie’s most ridiculous Christmas gift yet, the hydraulic three-hole punch, for some really good self-tanning lotion. Stop by the nearest Fresh Fields for a can of organic pina colada mix, some of those little drink umbrellas and a bag of sugar-free cocoanut macaroons. Turn up the heat in your house to 84, make sure the curtains are closed and the doors are locked, and set up your favorite beach chair in a room with no mirrors. Don the bikini you haven’t worn in 15 years, pop in any Jimmy Buffet tape and !voila! you’re in Key West. This is a great way to spend a Saturday and has the added benefit of turning you into a bronzed beauty by Monday morning so you can tell your co-workers that an admirer whisked you away to Margaritaville for the weekend on his private plane.

Plan B: Follow the example of our friends in the animal kingdom…hibernate. For this exercise you will need the following: an air mattress, king-size down comforter, your son’s college mini-refrigerator and a Sony Watchman TV. A miner’s hat with light attached will probably have to be ordered on e-bay. Presuming you are the master of your domain and, thus, have the prerequisite master bedroom complete with walk-in closet and bathroom, you make the closet your home for as long as possible. Inflate the air mattress, drape the comforter over the refrigerator and a shoe rack, and settle in for a few days of R & R, Yogi Bear style. Take lots of naps, eat only things that do not require silverware and limit your brain-wave activity. This does not mean that you cannot read “People” magazine or watch “Jerry Springer” during waking hours. If your family calls on you for any need, any need at all, it is perfectly acceptable to growl until they go away. If you do this for a long enough period of time you may emerge from your room to find a world filled with green again. Either spring has sprung or mold has overtaken your kitchen.

Plan C: If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Take your old badminton rackets and duct-tape them to your running shoes. Toss the badminton net but hold onto the supporting poles, literally. Try snow-shoeing in your back yard. Bundle up in a geeky hat and mitten set (Aunt Fritzie, 1982), drag the box of old sand toys you’ve been saving for your grandchildren out of the attic and build snow castles in the front yard. They will eventually melt, but at least the tide won’t wash them away by dark. Grab your old surf board, wedge it securely on a mound of packed snow and climb on. Have some neighborhood tykes play teeter-totter on it while you do your best Gidget moves. When you fall off it won’t be embarrassing, just more fun. And last, but not least, have your boss assign the office a snow-closing number so, brimming with hope and excitement, you can listen to KYW’s litany of lucky digits.