Snow in April

DEER PARK, N.Y. — It was the icing on the cake. An elderly couple ran their cart into my leg at the Super Stop-n-Shop, which is like a regular Stop-n-Shop only with X-ray vision and superhuman strength. I was picking up a couple things, nothing major, and this tank of a cart rammed full-bore into my shin. The blue-haired lady shrieked in horror as her husband, a Navy vet (or so it seemed from his headgear) wondered how my leg was doing. They both were whizzing from a horrific incident that the old lady needed to tell all in attendance:

"The deli line is so long! It stretches down to the registers!"

I wished that this was the only section of the supermarket in chaos. But the dairy section was stripped clean, down to the cottage cheese. Moms were carrying carts filled with boxed pasta and sugary packaged sauces; it may be the last time they ever have Italian food that isn't in a pizza box. Lines stretched from the tabloid racks to the meat and poultry.

All for 3 inches of snow.

Usually, I expect a run on bread and milk in times like this. But today's suburbanite needs far more to survive the calamitous coating of slush on the driveway. A full supply of luncheon meats (usually thinly sliced and of the low-salt variety) as well as the accompanying coleslaw and German potato salad. A rainbow of boxed drinks to keep the kids energized when they want to play in the obligatory gray and brown snow. Grandpa's 30 favorite breakfast cereals, with the combined roughage (and taste) of the yearly Ukrainian harvest. Metamucil so he can pass all that cereal. Enough Lean Cuisine dinners to fatten up the whole family.

And that was just the family in front of me in line. The express line. Words can't express what the regular lines looked like.

As the line progressed towards the grand nave of the Cathedral du Retail, premonitions of doom and despair rose from the congregation of soccer moms and retirees. According to the denizens of Long Island, the four horsemen thrive on 2-to-3 inches of snow followed by sleet and two consecutive 50-degree days. One woman, two screaming toddlers in tow, wondered whether the roads would close. Not slow down — close. An old man was beaming at heaving two huge bags of salt, joking that he'd use every last bit of it. Another two women chatted incessantly about whether the schools would close, and for how long.

All for 3 inches of snow.

It never ceases to amaze me. According to weathermen, the Rapture usually comes at isolated times between late November and late March. Calamitous end-times most dire are afoot at each "Winter Storm Warning," unless Yahweh smiles on us, then it's just a "Winter Storm Watch." Suburbia is acutely aware of these developments, and raids the supermarkets with reckless abandon. Once the storm passed, most of these people are left with lots of rotting frozen dinners and box after box of bad cereal.

As I got to the checkout guy, I was thinking about all those conversations, the premonitions, the signs and portents most dire. And just for a second, I leaned over to the checkout guy and did a quick check to make sure I was sane.

"It is only snowing a few inches, right buddy?"

"Yeah, that's what I heard."

"I thought so, thanks."

I got into the car with a smile, and the knowledge that I had enough deli meat to last at least through noon.

— Luciano D'Orazio (loudogs1@aol.com)

BOSTON — Snow in April is a magical thing. At a time when we can reasonably expect nature to shine out a blessing of pure spring sunshine, she opts instead to daintily lift her billowing gray skirts and poop merrily upon our upturned faces, burying us in a cloud of white fluffy crap.

My goodness. What's that landing on my head? On the sidewalk? All over my car? Why, it's a freezing cold pile of magic. Thanks ever so much, nature.

Writers, in general, tend to feel quite positively about nature. They're all like: "April hath put a spirit of youth in everything." (William Shakespeare)

Or: "When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world." (John Muir)

Here is my quote: "ATTENTION NATURE: TAKE YOUR SNOW BACK OR I WILL FIND A SMALL SAPLING AND KICK ITS ASS."

You heard me. Undo the snow within 24 hours, or the baby tree gets it.

— James Norton (jim@flakmag.com)

NEW YORK — Mother Nature, you disappoint me. After the roughest East Coast winter in years, you have the cojones to unleash a spring snowstorm today, thwarting the scheduled New York Yankees home opener. You didn't dis the crosstown Mets like that last week — what gives? You have something against my beloved Bronx Bombers? Tell you what — I'll let it slide if you promise me sunny and pleasant conditions on my wedding day this September.

Your friend (I hope),

— Chris M. Junior (chrisjr@mindspring.com)

NEW YORK — This snow is clearly coming from Mayor Michael Bloomberg.

It has not been a good run for Mayors in New York. Giuliani is considered a hero by most, but I think we can all agree his stoicism on Sept. 11 pales in comparison to the ruthless aggression he exhibited by taking away the strip clubs in Times Square. Do you realize that the quarters I used to put in the peep show booths are now going to homeless people? Do you know how that makes me feel?

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