When I was in the television news business and bad weather came, we divided up the staff into two categories: Weather warriors and weather weenies. The warriors made it to work, no matter what. The weenies called in with feeble excuses like, “I can’t get out of my driveway” and “My car won’t start.” Yea, right.
We got snow yesterday. Lots of it. And since I had prepared so well by laying in at least 450 pounds of Totino’s Pizza Rolls and Nathan’s Pigs in the Blanket, plus eight boxes of Corbett Canyon wine in a variety of flavors, we were all set to remain at the domicile until things thawed out a little.
But this morning, we just started getting a wee bit of cabin fever and decided to throw caution to the wind and go to Jack in the Box for some curly fries and burgers.
This is what happens in Middle Tennessee when there’s a pretty good snowfall. First of all, the streets in every subdivision are unplowed and covered not only with four inches of snow but also a thick layer of ice. We are undaunted. Mark can drive in any weather condition as long as you don’t talk and don’t invade his “driving space” by, say, trying to put a drink in the cup holder.
We made it out of Stonehenge and onto Franklin Road, just partially plowed. We head toward Cool Springs. The Barnes and Noble is closed. The Galleria Mall is closed. The “hot” sign is on at the Krispy Kreme so we hold out hope that the Jack in the Box will be open. Despite the fact that they had not shoveled the parking lot even for disabled people, it was open.
We triumphantly ordered two giant boxes of curly fries, some burgers and Cokes. The extremely tattooed but pleasant young man behind the counter was more than helpful, given that we were the only three people to have come through the door. I’m sure he was lonely.
After we eat, Noah decides we should commemorate our brave expedition into the frozen wasteland with a photo.
You will notice that Noah is dressed snazzily in skin-tight jeans and a light-weight jacket while I have thrown fashion to the floor and put on my super-warm yet slightly unattractive University of Tennessee parka and my caribou boots I got 16 years ago when we lived in Reno.
It is important to at least maintain the facade of bravery in a weather emergency. Mark’s and Noah’s cars are parked at the bottom of our steep driveway. Theoretically, they can go anywhere. My car, however, has been tucked safely in the garage for the last two days. And if the snow doesn’t melt tomorrow, I may be forced to shamefully join the weenies. I have a business meeting Monday. But I really might not be able to get out of the driveway.