You want some Blizzard on your Pizza?

When we last left off, our valiant heroes Dave and Nicole were looking at temperatures that were lower than the number of teenage Barry Manilow fans. Since then, a number of things have happened. First of all, wind gusts of 25-35 miles per hour came through, which dropped the temperature down to 15 below zero. That’s right. I said 15 below zero. I checked Yahoo today, and it said it San Jose was expected to get up to 62 degrees. That’s a difference of 77 degrees. That’s almost a right angle, people.

But that’s not the “best” part. The “best” part is that in the past 48 hours, 18 inches of snow has accumulated on the ground. 18 inches. That’s a foot and a half of snow. My parents have this cute metal cutout of a dog chasing a butterfly staked in their backyard. The only thing visible on the dog is its nose. Even the butterfly is perilously close to the snow.

On Monday, long before this great storm had descended upon us, we had planned on going to see my friends Jack and Jenny, who got married right around the time Nicole and I did, only they have an 8-month old. If you do the math, you’ll see that they had kids RIGHT away. We had planned on gathering at their house, but then this storm came. But if you know me, I’m like a postman when it comes to fun: neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor threat of anthrax can keep him from his appointed destination.

So yesterday evening, despite a winter snow warning, my friend Joe, who owns a 4-wheel drive Jeep Cherokee, plowed into our driveway to pick Nicole and I up. He had also brought along our friends Jason and Emily. Nicole was a bit unsure, I think, about driving around on streets covered in ice.

“Let’s just pray that the impact isn’t on my side,” Nicole said as we strapped ourselves into the car.

“Umm, why don’t we just pray that there’s no impact at all, regardless of who’s side it’s on,” my friend Jason said.

Good point, Jason.

The drive was an adventure. At one point, a young man in a small pickup truck had been attempting to turn right at a stop sign, and had slid into a deep snow bank. He was stuck, spinning his tires. His driver’s side door was propped open as he attempted to push the truck with one foot, while hitting the gas with the other. As you might have expected, this technique wasn't quite effective, mainly because he wasn't on a scooter. Joe and Jason and I each instantly got Hero syndrome: teh deep desire to be manly and resuce. We quickly tumbled out of the car, running to the rescue like Superheroes. Jason fell down on the ice. I slipped and nearly pulled my groin, and Joe used his car to stabilize himself, like a toddler learning to walk. So, maybe more like drunk Superheroes.

We finally got behind the guys’ car and pushed and pushed and finally, after a few seconds, we were able to rock his car out of the mini ditch his spinning tires had created and he got traction, and was able to get back onto the street.

“Thanks a ton, man,” the guy said. “Just trying to get this pizza delivered.”

I am not making that up. That is what he actually said.

This makes no sense to me. First of all, what person calls up a pizza company when it’s a winter snow warning, and says, “Yeah, can you bring me a pizza.” It’s a winter storm warning! That’s like calling up and saying, “Yeah, hi, could you deliver a pizza to my house. Just follow the tornado, the path of destruction should be right near my house.”

And secondly, what pizza company agrees? Can’t you just say, ‘We deliver anywhere, anytime. Unless it’s a blizzard.’ Can’t that be a company slogan? I think most people would understand.

We finally got to Jack and Jenny’s house. They have a darling house, 4-bedroom, 2 bath. They bought it for 78K. Just to give you an idea of the housing market difference, the amount that Jenny and Jack paid to buy their house is 25 thousand less than what Nicole and I paid for our down payment. Isn’t that astounding?

The evening was a blast, seeing Jack and Jenny in this new life stage, listening to Emily tell the story of her engagement and hanging out with my best friend from high school Eric, and his wife Amanda. I will go more into detail about this in a later blog. But after an evening of swapping stories and laughing until it hurt, we decided to call it a night and make the 4-mile trek back to my parent’s house. It only took about 30 minutes, so that was nice.

I woke up this morning and decided that I was going to help out my parents by shoveling a path in the snow out to the mailbox at the end of the driveway. This was a good plan that had all the makings of a good deed. The only problem was that my parent’s driveway is roughly 6 miles long. I’m exaggerating, but it’s probably 75 yards long. And each shovel full of snow weighed approximately 20 pounds. So, I probably heaved, oh, several tons of snow. The most difficult part was breaking through into the road, where the snow plows had left a mound of frozen slush that was nearly taller than me. Finally, I broke through into the road, raised my shovel triumphantly, and yelled at the forces of nature that attempted to break my spirit. “You are vanquished, evil forces of winter!” I yelled, hoisting my mitten-laden fist into the air. “I am the victor!” I quickly checked to make sure the snow plow or a car wasn’t coming, because that would be embarrassing. To go through all that work, only to get hit by a slow moving vehicle.

I went to the mailbox to get my dad’s paper, thinking how glad he would be that his son, his only son, braved such fierce elements for the sake of him, so that he could have his news. I walked over to the white mailbox, and opened it. It was empty.



In retrospect, it makes sense that there wasn’t a paper. I mean, who in their right mind would attempt to deliver anything during a blizzard?

Besides pizzas, I mean.

Nicole and I are supposed to leave Ohio tomorrow afternoon. My parents are more cautious now that they are older. My dad said that unless someone shovels the entire driveway, there’s no way we get the cars out to leave for Michigan tomorrow. My parents said that it’s fine with them. They suggested that we just cozy up and watch Mom’s Christmas present, which was a DVD Collection of The View: Seasons 1-4. My mother also got Celine Dion’s new Christmas album, which she is blaring right now in the living room.

I don’t care if I have to shovel the entire driveway with a spatula, we’re leaving tomorrow.