Snowday(s)

Last week, a snowicane, (I never heard of it, either), was predicted. A really big snow storm accompanied by high winds. In my day, this was called a blizzard. But then, I'm an old fogey. Some young upstart believes that newer is better. Since I've survived a few Honest-to-God blizzards in my day, I say, "Let's see what you've got".

I listened intently when my youngest son called to invite me to pack a few things and come to his house to spend the storm with his family. I politely declined, opting to spend the time at my home, where I have plenty of food, medication, and good neighbors who see to my shoveling.

Watched as much as I could stand of the news reports of panicked citizens storming the grocery stores to stock up on bread, milk and eggs. Me? If I'm going to head out to stock up on anything, it will be brownies and wine. But I digress. A routine interview will be with the snowplow driver/salt truck operator who informs us that the trucks will be running 'round the clock, and you can just hear the "ka-ching" sounding in his head as he speaks sadly about the time he'll spend away from his family.
"Stay off the roads and let the plows do their job".
"The Governor has closed the interstates".
"Here's a shot of the Turnpike, showing traffic moving well in the one open lane".

It doesn't really matter how much snow is predicted, the news reports will always be the same. PEOPLE! PLEASE! Snow should not be the lead story. This is Winter. This is the Northeast. It will snow. These are all facts. Let's face them and move on.

If I'm looking out my window at a frigid white landscape, I'd rather not watch more of it on my TV. How about dragging out the shots of the kids diving into the local pool in mid-July? Or the folks enjoying the rides and the food concessions at an amusement park? Can you find the interview you did with The Good Humor Man as he made his rounds on the hottest day of the year?

Do you think you can be a little innovative? Go ahead and shoot the shot of the mounds of snow the plow guy piled up. And the snow-covered interstates. And the frosted tree branches. Put 'em in the archives. I'd enjoy looking at them when the temperature hits 97F. in August.