Snow Day

When it comes to snow days, I've reached my tipping point.


There are a lot of tipping point moments for us "men of a certain age." I believe it's one of the ways you know you're in your second-coming-of-age.

I'm borrowing "tipping point" from physics where it refers to the adding a small amount of weight to a balanced object until the additional weight causes the object to suddenly and completely topple, or tip. I'm using it metaphorically to talk about life's little, necessary transitions.

For example, I was one of those kids who would have spent every summer hour swimming if I could. We lived within walking distance of the Arkansas river in south Tulsa. However, our parents sought to instill in us a deadly fear of quicksand that would swallow us whole in order to keep us from swimming in the river. Fortunately, my Aunt Betty had access to a pool and would take us for a swim most every day.

Over the years though, the appeal of the pool has lost its luster. It happened gradually with little things: it's too cool, it's too hot. The water will be too cold. I just "did" my hair. I can't find my trunks. Little by little the appeal of dry land took over until the scales tipped. Now I only go in if the grand girls insist on a swim and I'm one of the few adults available. I still enjoy it once I'm in the water, but...

Snow days are like that. I used to get giddy with excitement when our local "the sky is falling" weatherpersons would forecast snow. Now, not so much. I still love to see the results of fun in the snow: snowpeople, igloos, pictures of people sledding, etc. But I'll be the one inside making sure the fire is stoked and the hot cocoa is made for those that come in near frost-bitten from the fun.

A shot I took recently in downtown St. Louis.

A shot I took recently in downtown St. Louis.

Tomorrow, say the meteorologists, the big one is coming. People are emptying grocery store shelves, laying up provisions like we  live in Fargo or something. I'm on that side of the fulcrum now that's not too fired up about the promise of new fallen snow.

Our snow-loving boys built an igloo a few Christmases back. They finished it long after dark. The next morning Mimi, Karlee & Pops made a visit.