Go Home, Winter. You’re Drunk.

I am just about to write a letter to Congress demanding that they turn off this winter nonsense. Today is New York City’s fourteenth snow storm this season, giving us seventeen days of measurable snowfall. The problem, as I see it, is that snow is the greatest thing in the entire planet if you’re a school kid or an Eskimo, but if you’re an adult it’s just another hazard making your morning commute worse.

First, in order to get from Brooklyn to Midtown NYC where I work, I have to maintain an entire pack of Siberian huskies for my dog sled. You might think, “Doesn’t New York City have an underground transit system?”

It does, and I’ll acknowledge that the MTA is not entirely at fault for blizzards, but it doesn’t change the fact that if rivers of snowcone refuse make their way into the tracks below, the mole people go on strike and trains are re-routed. Last week, for instance, they shut down an entire subway line in the morning, forcing myself and other commuters to re-route via what I now understand to be Burbank, Alaska.

The other bit, and I don’t want to come off as racist, but all this snow is attracting more and more Abominable Snowmen. Don’t get me wrong, I think Yetis are a hard-working, industrious people. Sometimes I go for lunch at a Yeti restaurant, and it’s delicious. My so-called friend Josh Jennings is a quarter Yeti. But every time it snows we get more Yetis moving into the neighborhood, and their music is super loud and they like to cook Arctic moose over open fires which I think probably violate Brooklyn health codes.  

Now, if you’re a kid, blizzards are all wonderful news. School gets canceled and you spend most of the day oscillating between frostbite, hot chocolate, and jamming carrot noses onto inappropriate snowman locations. It’s great! You can get into snowball fights, you can build forts, and your otherwise normal neighborhood is transformed into some Narnian wonderland. As a child, I would have preferred that about half the year consist of four feet of snow and no formal schooling. Plus hoverboards.

As an adult I do not get “snow days.” I get to journey to work — in the snow. I’ve grown fond of my aforementioned dog sled team, but I’m still all slushy and cold (and probably late) by the time I arrive. At this point I think we should just admit as a people that our dog sleds and public transit models are ineffectual, and start importing these things to get to work: