I have called off work due to a level 2 snow emergency. I’m sitting here, feeling miserable, with a head cold, still in my jammies, wrapped in a robe, watching it snow AGAIN! I dislike snow and it’s friend the ice.
I was born, almost on the beach, in perpetually sunny Southern California. Where we lived we could see Mt. Baldy. Ol’ Baldy was snow-capped part of the year. Twice a year or so mom would go into her bedroom closet and get that little bag with nine pairs of knitted gloves inside. We would all put on our heavest sweaters and jackets (none of us had boots, of course), pile in the Station Wagon and an hour and a half later we were in the snow. We would touch it, throw it, get cold feet and noses, hop in the car, go home and get in the pool. We weren’t rich. In Southern California I think you can get public assistance to build a pool.
Now, I’m grown and live in Ohio. There’s usually not a lot of snow here. Until now! So, it is among the sounds of the snow plows scraping and the snow blowers wailing that I blame Il Volo for this mess. More specifically “Buon Natale”. Stay with me here. I mean, look at these songs:
I’ll Be Home For Christmas – (“Please have snow…” they’re begging here!)
Jingle Bell Rock – (“..snowing and blowing..” sound like “bushels of fun” to you?)
It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year – (“caroling out in the snow” why?)
White Christmas – (the whole darn things about snow!)
Let it Snow. Let It Snow, Let it Snow – (nuff said, nuff said, nuff said)
For all I know, Panis Angelicus may mean “send more snow ” in Latin! (no emails please, I know it doesn’t). Ave Maria doesn’t mention snow though. I’m pretty sure that one is about me.
Now… if The Boys sang these to you as nicely as they do and you could open up the heavens and let the snow pour down wouldn’t you? Come on, I know all of you. Of course you would!
I rest my case. Someone up there is listening! STOP PLAYING BUON NATALE while I can still find my car under the snow! I have Christmas shopping to finish!
Thanking you in advance.