Supply and Command = Surving a Big Snow

Whenever a big snow storm is predicted, grocery stores make out great because we all stock pile for the storm. People prepare differently for storms according to sex, age group, and marital status. Couples split into two categories; BWC (Broke With Children) or CWM (Childless With Money).

Bachelors who live alone have the shortest storm supplies list; beer.

Bachelors whose girlfriends live with them; beer and maybe a candle so she doesn’t freak out if the lights go out.

Single women with no children have the best supply list; chocolate, candles, magazines, tasty canned foods that they love since they don’t have to please anyone else, cozy comforter, charged cell phone to chat away the time if the cable goes out.

Single Mothers have the worst list; candles, Lunchables, kid’s snack foods, crayons, coloring books, games, at least 10 minutes on a prepaid cell phone to call for help if needed, and absolutely nothing for themselves. If she has a boyfriend, and if he’s coming over, she also has to buy his beer. Why? Because once a man is dating, it seems to be her responsibility to make everything he wants appear before his eyes. He comes over before the storm, opens the fridge, sees the Lunchables and juice boxes and says, “Hey, you didn’t get me any beer?”

BWC (Broke With Children) couples get everything on the single Mom list, including beer, but the man is smart enough to get shrimp and chocolate for her, bags of salt, and possibly a new snow shovel.

CWM (Childless With Money) couples can get a list of any supplies they want, but why bother? If you’re going to be trapped inside for a few days, why shouldn’t it be in a nice hotel with room service? CWM couples can stay at the Sheridan.

Retired people are the best prepared. They’ve lived long enough to anticipate every possible contingency plan for a storm. They have a wood or kerosene stove if the heat goes out. They have lots of candles if the lights go out. They have plenty of canned food, and they always know where the can opener is. The have decks of cards and know card games. They’ve lived a long time, so they have funny stories to tell and retell. They do not require TV to entertain themselves or each other. They don’t have cell phones because they can’t see the tiny buttons or figure out how the stupid little things work anyway - but it’s okay because, they don’t need any help to get through a storm. Prior to the storm, they hired someone to shovel them out. They know someone will come check on them if no one has seen or heard from them 48 hours after the end of the storm. When they go to the store for storm supplies, they get cat or dog food, toilet paper and make a pharmacy run to insure they have all their meds.

If you’re not retired, you should always know a retired couple and stay on their good side. In the event of a really bad storm and if your supplies are running low, call them. The man has a truck, or something with four wheel drive. They will come and rescue you and your children. Just pack the kids things and whatever booze you have in the house. The retired people have Margarita and Daiquiri mix and a blender that works. Whatever your hyperactive kids don’t drink, the grown-up can have. It breaks the social mores, but hey, it’s a snow storm, no one should be stuck in a house with kids climbing the walls when a little chemical intervention can make everyone’s lives easier for the duration.

Roomination = Ruination

We’ve all just dug out from a big blast of snow and the weatherman predicts another big storm in the next two weeks. Snow storms are very bad for men, more so than women. First, regardless of women’s lib, we still send them out to shovel. But worse than backbreaking shoveling, snow storms pose a great financial risk to men; ruination by roomination.

At some point, when a women is trapped in her house, she relents and says, “Oh well, might as well make the best of it, “ and makes herself a cup of coffee or hot chocolate and sits down in her living room to take a few minutes for herself. This is where the trouble starts.

As she sits and sips, she begins to ruminate, you know, to think about how things are going for her in general. As she ruminates, her eyes lazily focus here and there in the room. Slowly she realizes that the “new” couch isn’t really new anymore. It was new five years ago and now she begins to see stains and wear. A slight feeling of sadness begins. Her eyes drift away to look at her pretty drapes that she loves. But wait, they don’t really match the love seat that came in after the drapes, do they? No, they don’t. And the end tables legs are looking a little beat up from all the hits from the vacuum. If a man can catch and distract his gal at just this moment, he has a chance of diverting her from the next step which will cost him a lot to time and money in the Spring.

She Who Must Be Obeyed, ruminates over the old and beat up furniture, drapes and carpet that surround her - and suddenly she’s sick of it. Within her reach is the TV remote and within that slim magic remote is the key to heart. She turns on HGTV - Home and Garden TV. They have decorating shows every half hour. They show her how, with just a little effort and $ 2000, she can redecorate the room. Rumination gives way to redecoration.

When a woman begins to ruminate about how she can redecorate a room, all is lost. Rumination and decoration collide in her mind and roomination occurs. Roomination is the ability to peer into April and see a new living room.

She looks at the exhausted man sleeping in yon Lazy-Boy recliner and envisions him putting in a new ceiling fan, taking out old furniture, laying down new carpet, and schlepping in new furniture. She mentally reconfigures the budget to afford what she wants.

Just for the guys, here are the signs your gal is roominating:
She sifts through the junk mail and keeps the flyers from furniture stores.
She begins to complain about how uncomfortable the couch is and about it’s length; if it’s a short couch, she will lament that a longer couch would allow you to sleep on it. If it’s a long couch, she’ll point out that a shorter one would allow you to fit in a new recliner for you.
All benefits of furniture purchases will be described in terms that benefit you.
A new carpet, with a thicker pad, will absorb your fall better when you trip over the cat.
Padded arms on the chairs won’t stick to your arms in summertime.
New drapes, with blackout liners, will shut out the sun, all the better for you to nap in your new recliner my dear....

Unfortunately, once roomination has begun, there’s no stopping it’s relentless progression. The victim becomes increasing discontented, fights over money erupts, hallway sex begins (you pass each other in the hallway and say “f--k you”), always a bad sign.

Sorry guys, there’s no option but to open your wallet and, if you play nice, you may get to chose the color of your new recliner.

The Big Dig

The northeast has many ‘snowbirds’; residents who winter in Florida or other warmer climates till Memorial Day. But sometimes, people who are from warmer places think they’d enjoy experiencing a winter.

7 AM
“Look at it, Joyce. A blanket of white velvet covering the land. What a beautiful morning. Our first big snow. It is awe inspiring.”
“It sure is, Charley. Looks like you’ll get to use your new snow shovel today.”
“I can shovel the sidewalk and driveway in about an hour I think.”

8 AM
“Are you back in already, Charley? The car is still buried.”
“Yeah. I just did the sidewalk. It takes longer than I thought. But at least we can get out to the street.”
“Not anymore, honey. While you were in the can, the snowplow came by and there’s a huge block of snow at the end of the walk, about four feet high.”
“No problem. That happens. You shovel out, the plow shovels you back in. It’s part of life in the Northeast, honey. I’ll shovel out the end of the walk after breakfast.”
“Okay, and the car too.”
“No problem.”
“I saw our neighbor give the plow guy the finger.”
“Very immature. Snow is just a fact of life here, Joyce, people have to adjust.”

11 AM
“It took forever, but I got the car cleared off and and shoveled out the driveway to the road. I didn’t realize how packed down the snow was at the end of the walk. I guess the movement of the plow packs it as it goes.”
“Well, just rest in the chair. I’ll make you some lunch.”
“What’s that sound? Is that the plow? Is he on this street?”
“Yup, Oh hell, Charley, he just filled up the end of the walk and the driveway with another mound of snow. He’s giving our neighbor the finger and laughing.”
“What?”
“Yeah, the neighbor just threw a flowerpot at the plow.”
“The man is unbalanced.”

1 PM
“Well, that should be it, Joyce. I shoveled out the ends of the walk and the driveway and re-shoveled both from the snow since this morning. I put a sign at the end of the driveway for the plow man not to block us in again.”
“Oh, Charley, I don’t know how to tell you. He just re-plowed while you were in the bedroom changing clothes. We’re blocked at the ends again.”
”WHAT? He just ignored the sign? Who does that son of a bitch think he is?”
“And the neighbor hurled a lawn chair at the plow this time. He’s a local you know.”
“Call the town, Joyce, find out who is plowing this road and tell them to tell him to lift the plow before he crosses driveways that have obviously been dug out.”

3 PM
“Okay, Joyce. That’s the last I can shovel us out today. I am pooped. Did you get ahold of the town?”
“Yes. They said they’d pass the message...”
“WAIT! What’s that? Is that him coming AGAIN?”
“Yes. Charley, he’s at the corner, maybe you can get outside in time, flag him down and talk to him.”
“I’ll talk to him.....”
“Charles... what are you doing with the bat? Hold on, phone’s ringing....it’s the neighbor. He said he’ll meet you at the end of our driveway since the plow will hit us first. He says he has bottles and rags, do we have any kerosene, gasoline or lamp oil in the house? What’s he talking about, Charley?”
“He’s talking about a man’s right to the pursuit of life, liberty, happiness, and the right to defend his home front from all enemies; foreign, domestic, or armed with snowplows.”

Crabs & Roses

“I hate Valentine’s Day! I never get it right! Why do you women have to have an extra holiday besides Christmas and your birthday where the guy has to sweat out getting another gift? It’s not fair. I’m still paying off Christmas.”

“Blame no one but yourselves, Pete. For decades men have been so closed off emotionally that women only got to hear “I love you” on our death beds. Valentine’s Day picked up speed as a way for us to drive a wedge into your thick skulls and force you to demonstrate an emotion via candy, flowers, and gifts. The deal was, if you can’t say it, you have to show it. The florist and chocolate industries in this country were built on guys inability to be tender.”

“Yeah, but we’re tender now. We have all had force fed “sensitivity training to get in touch with our feelings....ooooo....” . We say “I love you” all the time now. We know we’re not to get any action without it. We got the message, and we’re still being fleeced every February 14th.”

“That’s true. Guys are much more in touch with their emotions now I guess.”

“No, that’s not what I said. We’re no more connected to our emotions than before, we just know we have to say “I love you” all the time, it’s a filler for us now. Like,

“Hi honey, I’m going to the store, what do you need? Milk? Okay, love you, see you later.” See? It’s a filler, instead of just saying “bye” I threw in, “love you”. We get free points every time we bounce a “love you” in any conversation. The points rack up, and eventually, we get a payoff.“

“You’re all using “I love you” as a filler? Just to rack up points for sex?”

“Absolutely. Every chance we get. It replaces a lot of things. Like if I make a mistake, I just say, “I screwed up, but hey, you know I love you.” I never have to say that other thing anymore.”

“You mean, “I’m sorry” ? Why are you holding up your hands and making across with your fingers? I’m not a vampire.”

“It’s those words. We don’t say the “S” word.”

“But you can say the “L’ word now - anytime?”

“Yup. The “L” word works, as long as it’s not connected to the “M” word.”

“Yes, but L is just before M in the alphabet. You don’t think that’s just a random coincidence, do you?”

“Up till this very moment, yes Sally, I didn’t think that there was secret message in the L-M order of the alphabet. But now that I’m listening to you, it’s clear that one of us is nuts.”

“So what are you getting Cindy for Valentine’s Day?”

“Flowers and candy, what else?”

“She’s an Island girl. Ditch the candy, go get some crabs.”

“Crabs and roses? Sounds like Guns and Roses.”

“Yes, but minus the drugs.”

“What about candy, crabs and roses?”

“A little short on love points are we?”

“Yeah. I made a small mistake, and blew her engine up yesterday, I didn’t tell her yet. So whaddaya think? Will candy, crabs and roses keep me out of the dog house?”

“Under the circumstances, you better add some drugs after all....”

“She doesn’t do drugs.”

“Well, then you take them. It will distract you from the pain.”

“Pain? She’s not gonna hit me with the crabs is she?”

“Of course not. She wouldn’t waste the crabs. The roses however, will need to be removed by your proctologist.”

“I guess I could break down and use the “S” word.”

“Nope, too late for sorry. You might have to resort to the “M” word...”

“Nah, I’ll just get a new girlfriend.”

“What a prince.”