Tag Archives: snow is for kids

get what you want

I like to think of myself as a pretty influential guy, but I’m not sure I really am.

I think that when I tell people about a movie I enjoyed, they take that to heart and go see it. But I imagine what really happens is that they smile and nod and then two minutes later forget what we were talking about.

And I guess I’m okay with not being able to sway people’s thoughts, because it takes a special person to be able to do this.  There are really only a handful of people throughout history who have this ability.

Of course the first person that comes to mind is the kid who made the very first snowman.

Think about a snowman.

It’s three mounds of snow piled on top of each other, with a carrot and some other random stuff used to represent limbs, or in the case of Unique Snowmen, genitals.

They don’t look like a person at all.

Yet somehow, even though it looks nothing like it’s supposed to, it remains a semi-relevant figure in our world today.  Kind of like Tara Reid.

Whoever the kid was who made the first snowman had to be able to influence people in a major way.

Johnny: [Looking upon the first ever snowman] “Uh, Carl?  That doesn’t look like right.  I mean, it’s just three piles of snow.”

Carl: [Turning to Johnny] “Oh, it’s a person alright.  And you know why? Because I say so and because if you don’t tell everyone that this looks exactly like a person, I’m going to tell Cindy Lawson about how you still wet the bed.”

Johnny: [Starting to cry, and unfortunately, starting to dampen his pants] “I get nervous sometimes!”

Obviously Carl was a master of persuasion.

From then on every time a little kid sees snow falling to the ground, he thinks of rolling a bunch of snow together to form a big hunk of crap that doesn’t resemble what it’s supposed to in any way.

I wish I could be more like Carl, but sadly, I get nervous sometimes too.


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Well we’ve got our first real snow fall today. It’s been coming down pretty steadily since I got up at six. It’s coating this city with a pristine white coating, hiding all the dirtiness and momentarily quieting the rumble of the streets.

And I hate it.

I hate snow. I’m not twelve anymore. I don’t get to go sled-riding at the park. I don’t get to stay home from school, watch Duck Tales and drink hot chocolate.


I am, despite my girlfriends claims, an adult. I have to go to work in dress clothes, only to have them soaked by the nasty slush of the streets. And did I mention this? I wore a wool trench coat to the office today, which basically attracted the snow to me so that when I stepped into the office, I looked like the abominable snowman – if he wore nice dress shoes. I also have to shovel our stoop and the sidewalk when I get home from work.

Snow is not fun for me.

It does not make me laugh. It does not make me ponder the wonders of mother nature.

In fact, it seems like this is mother natures way of sticking it to me. She remembers all those times that I forgot to recycle. She remembers how when I used to smoke I’d just flick my butts wherever, never caring about the litter I was creating.

She knows that I’m an adult and I can’t do anything remotely fun when it snows, especially here in New York. So basically, every single snowflake is a tiny little “fuck you” hand delivered to me by her.

What a bitch.


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