A long time ago, when I was a lad fair of cheek, I made a gentleman’s agreement with the good lord. It didn’t revolve around a life-changing or affirming event. It certainly wasn’t anything momentous.
I believe the brokering of the deal occurred after a particularly harsh and prolonged Northeast Pennsylvanian snowstorm, which left a foot or more of ‘white gold’ on the ground. Usually, when it snows in March, the snow is wet with a weight that is more analogous to Louie Anderson than say Nicole Richie.
This makes for laborious, back-breaking shoveling.I remember being about halfway finished clearing my grandmother’s driveway when the acute pain in my lower lumbar led me to thoughts of who was ultimately at the root of this problem. I had to stop blaming local weatherman extraordinaire, Tom Clark. Shooting the messenger and all… No, only one person had their hand in this.I thought I would bring up the issue with him/her directly.
Now I’ve never had any beef with snow in late November, December, January, and February. All of these months fall squarely in the winter milieu and any frozen precipitation there within is fair game. But March always felt different to me. It’s a time of change. A time for rain, basketball, and news of canceled TV series. Definitely not a time for snow.So here was my proposal to God: No snow annually after my birthday, February 28th, till the start of November, and I will be the best possible person I can be.
I think that seemed fair enough, and it was a win-win. I get to enjoy a shovel-free spring and the almighty gets a faithful charge furthering his good work in the world. Unfortunately, God hasn’t been holding up his end of the bargain, which leads me to wonder, what have I been doing wrong?
Have I not been helping the poorest among us? Have I been vain, or selfish, or spiteful? Is it that I occasionally vote Democratic? Whatever the reason, I don’t blame God. I put the condemnation squarely in my corner. In general, he/she has blessed me in countless ways that I guess shoveling 2 feet of snow in March is not a horrible penance compared to being enslaved to build the pyramids or being a participant in a reality TV series.
Then again, maybe I should go back to blaming Tom Clark.
