There are two things that I do not like. Actually, there are a lot of things that I do not like, but there are two things that I don’t like that that are somewhat out of the ordinary among the people that I know. The first thing is sand. I do not like sand. It’s grainy and itchy and if you walk in it for just a couple of minutes, you’re somehow still finding it in random places several weeks after the fact. It’s gross and uncomfortable. I have no problem with beaches. In fact, I enjoy the beach. I simply would enjoy it that much more if I didn’t have to inadvertently take seven and a half pounds worth of sand as a souvenir every time I went. The last couple of times I’ve gone to the beach, I’ve tried to explain this to people, but each time, people have reacted like I was saying I didn’t like football or money or America. Maybe I’m strange.
The other thing I do not like is snow. Snow sucks. It just does. Why do we have to pretend otherwise? Think about it. If someone told you “tomorrow the ground is going to be covered. It’s going to be really cold and slippery, and harder to walk on. The roads are going to be bad and it’s going to take 10 times as long to get your car out of its parking spot,” would you be excited about that. Of course you wouldn’t? But somehow every time there’s even a hint of snow, or a possibility there would be snow, half my Facebook friend list has some happy status update complete with smiley face emoticons. I don’t understand.
Most of this is probably sentimental value left over from younger days. Snow was nice when I was school. We got a day off, and could go outside and play and someone else was responsible for any driving and shoveling that had to be done and for making sure there was something to eat in the house. Win-win-win. Good times all around.
But now, what good does snow do me? I can’t play in it anymore; the neighbors get grumpy if you throw snowballs at them and you get weird looks trying to build a snowman with the neighborhood kids. And I certainly don’t get any time off work when it snows. In fact, I have to get up earlier just to make it on time, being diligently prompt as I am (he said, his voice heavy with irony). Cars need to be dug out and God help you if there’s a layer of ice under the snow on the windshield. You have to choose between uncomfortable boots (have you ever tried to find boots in a size 15, I didn’t think so) and getting snow in your shoes. Snow in your shoes is sort of like sand in your shoes, except the effect is a lot more irritating, if much less long lived. And then you have to drive to work on slippery roads surrounded by both terrified drivers who think going 5 miles per hour and riding the break the whole way is a winning strategy and maniacs who think their giant SUVS make them immune to laws of physics like friction and inertia.
So my question is: what part of that is good? Exactly which of the things I just listed am I supposed to enjoy? Where is the fun? Exactly. So why does everyone still get excited about snow? What is wrong with you people?
That’s all I’ve got.