March 13th, 2007 – 3:05pm Eastern Time calmly reassures us: 

Worst… imminent…paralyzing

Fill up the bath tub and check the flashlights. I envision Gubernatorial and Mayoral Chiefs of Staffs screaming “get me the FEMA fleece, we’re on in ten!”. News reporters descend on fabric stores to get yard sticks for the live measurement. I always think about the person driving the van, after warnings to stay off the roads they drive what seem to be top heavy, unwieldly vehicles starting before dawn...lots of coffee and probably no ruler.

It’s that time of year again … when New Englander’s seemingly forget the annual tradition of the “storm of the decade” and discussions turn from the upcoming Spring to the late winter Nor’easter.

Here in Boston, it means you check out UniversalHub’s FrenchToast Alert System. It means you can aggregate all the weather reports by the amount of beer and wine being sold at the grocery store. It means that household items morph into apparently immovable objects for staking claim on a parking spots. 

And then there’s the pre-storm trip to the store. I’ve come to believe it’s less about the actual groceries and more about a sense of Snowdenfreude… misery may love company, but I think we all want to be part of the chaos, the story, the jockeying for deli meat – maybe because it’s one of the few collective experiences we have left.

Snow storms in New Hampshire meant one thing. Here in Boston, they mean another. Deep down, I think we’re all hoping for a storm that locks us in our neighborhood for the a few days. You can walk down the middle of an eerily quiet street. The restaurants and coffee shops are still open yet there’s a less frenetic pace about the experience. Binge watch some Homeland, or in my case Curious George. You know the bar around the corner will be open throughout the storm with a rolling cast of locals commiserating about the snow, but more likely treating the afternoon like a one day Mardi Gras. And by the way, that grocery store that you can walk to is also open…

Tomorrow’s date with destiny is named Winter Storm Stella. For New Englander’s of a certain age, I think it’s high time we lobby for a Winter Storm Shelby…

Now if you want to talk paralyzing, the winter of 2015 was it. This is my friend Sasso, he’s 6’7”, now that was some freakin’ paralyzing snow…