Snow Days? I 'member Those

Name One Thing You Looked Forward To Or Prayed For More As A Child Than A Snow Day.

Written by Adam Guttzeit

Oh wait, you can’t.

Because when you were a kid, snow days were the shit! Don’t you just miss the times when you and your friends would see each other before the school day ended to plan out what you were going to do tomorrow IF it snowed? Or when you’re teachers would hit you with the classic “Well don’t be too excited, the test on tectonic plates is still happening Thursday!”

Or when you’d get home and go through the whole rigamarole of steps: pajamas on inside out and backwards, toothpaste on the nose, run around the table 5 times, then crank your snow dance before bed.

Then, the morning would come. You wake up, look out the window, the glare blinds you as it springs off of the 8 inches of fresh powder. Your mom would poke her head in your room and whisper, “Hey, school called, it’s cancelled.” “Frick yeah” you think as you try to fall back asleep. Except, you never could, the excitement was too much to handle. You wanted to get out there and explore the frozen tundra that was once your little cul de sac.

There were two main routes for snow day activities. Sometimes you could pull off both of these in one day, but it's about as rare as Halley's Comet. The first path you can take is the old sled trip to a rinky dink hill near by. One or two dads would get stuck bringing you and your dipshit friends to the library or a county park. You spend an hour or two there tops, maybe grab some food, then head home.

Then there was the second option of going to someone’s house and going through the checklist of snow related activities. Snowball fights, igloo building, football games, wrestling and beating the shit out of each other. After that, you would come inside and right away, mom would fire up the hot cocoa. You would throw on dry clothes and hop on to N64, hands still stinging.

As much as I love sledding, I have to say I always preferred option two for it’s variety and longevity. Either way, the memories from days like that are one’s you never lose.

However, as an adult (loose term), the mystique seemingly has faded away. A snow day now consists of sitting at work waiting to get an email from HR that says we have a delay until 10 AM tomorrow and you let out a quick “Dope”, to yourself. Then you go home and do your usual routine, but you stay up an hour or two later and maybe have a couple of drinks.

These days you wake up and you log into your email to see that there is now a delay until noon. You have the option of using a half day of PTO to stay home, or you can come in and earn an extra half day.  You make the executive decision to stay home and protect the company's top asset, you. If you crash and are out for a month, no way your giant corporation is going to survive without you. Alright, it would mean almost nothing, but still, why risk it? You’re not saving any lives either way.

You spend the day online shopping, watching Netflix, texting your group chats, swiping right on various dating apps knowing there is essentially a negative chance you find someone that you will hold a conversation with or meet. You still play video games, but without your friends there to knock the controller out of your hand or shut the system off when you hit a game winner with Gilbert Arenas from 40 feet, it just isn't the same. And now you drink coffee instead of hot cocoa. And you don’t have snowball fights, you fight with your parents about what to get from the grocery store. And you don’t build igloos, you look for apartments on Craig’s List.

Now before you go and think that this is depressing, you’re right, it is. But! What if we use snow days as a reminder of what it was like to be a kid? To be carefree and to not get so wrapped up in the gloomier aspects of life. Maybe it can help some of us reset and refocus on what will genuinely make us happy. Use a snow day to slow down and reflect on what truly makes life worth living, and what can give you the same feeling you had when you’d pee your name into the snow, in cursive of course.

And maybe I’m just talking out of my ass, but as least I’m saying something.