Another rumored major snow event in central Indiana was a bust. Such as been the norm in the winter of 2012-13.
We got 4-5″ overnight, less than the 6-9″ that had been predicted, turning Wednesday into a two-hour delay for the girls rather than a real snow day. They were disappointed when we told them they just had to hang out and play inside for a few hours and then head to school. It’s good packing snow, though, so snowmen and snowballs are in their future this afternoon.
Which got me thinking about my favorite snow day ever. I know, I know. Old school friends are shaking their heads, saying, “OF COURSE he has a favorite snow day.” In my defense, I can only remember what I did on two, maybe three, snow days ever back in the day. So it’s not like I have a list of my 20 favorites stored on my hard drive somewhere.
So cut me a little slack.
That said, let me take you back to February 1980. As I remember it, it was during the Winter Olympics. But it could have been anytime that winter and my mind has just stuck this in the midst of the games.
This was before we moved to Kansas City, and we were still living in southeast Missouri. We went to school as normal that day, but a big snowstorm rolled in and they sent everyone home early.
I was part of the original generation of Latch Key kids, so I got off the bus, played around in the snow a little, and went into our quiet apartment to watch the Olympics until my parents got home.
Soon there was a knock on the door and my parents’ friend Jerry, who lived with his wife two buildings down, was there. He was an unemployed construction worker with no kids and kind of took me under his wing. While he was around 30, he was still just a big kid and loved to take me to do stupid kid stuff.
He told me to come on and we hopped into his rusty, blue Ford pickup. We went to Wal-Mart, he made some purchases and gave me a quarter to use in the vending machines outside. Let’s say I bought a new Super Ball, although I have no idea what I spent that quarter on.
On the way home, in the midst of a deserted county road, he yanked the steering wheel hard to the left and hit the brakes putting the truck into a spin. As we began to rotate, he floored the gas and we continued to spin faster. I remember kind of levitating in the seat, since there was no way I had a seat belt on in 1980.
We circled for a moment or two before he let off the gas and I sunk back into the seat. I’m sure I gave him a wide-eyed look, as I remember him laughing and saying, “You’ve never done donuts before, have you?”
I shook my head and started laughing, relieved that he intended for us to spin out like that and we hadn’t been on the verge of going into the ditch or something.
“Wanna do it again?”
I nodded and off we went. All I remember from the rest of that day is sliding around the front seat, laughing myself silly as we turned circle after circle on deserted, snow-packed roads on a cold day in 1980.
So here we are, over 33 years later, and that’s still one of the first things I think of when the girls have a snow day. One of these years, I’ll have to find a deserted parking lot and go spin them around a few times.