There is normally no joy in living through a Muncie winter. Snow drifts over East Central Indiana's roads; campus ice-polishers create a glistening, rink-like sheen on our sidewalks; and rock salt eats completely through cars, leaving curious lumps of rusted metal scattered throughout the town.
Impatient people with names such as John King yell and complain, hypothesizing that Muncie's lone (yes, lone) city plow truck must be sitting somewhere dormant instead of performing its function. So help me, this is the only feasible explanation I can find for the lack of snow removal.
The recurring joke (that I resurrect every winter and steadfastly take credit for because, by God, I thought of it) is that, "We shouldn't complain; the snow fills the potholes." Snow, ironically, has become an effective tool for combating the roads around here.
Normally, winter is the time for private pick-up truck owners to mount plows on the front of their vehicles and then drive around town all day - not plowing. As cars spin tires and entire city blocks gather to help push, these pick-up trucks, replete with snow plows on the front and Air Gates on the back, troll through, apparently doing nothing. The names of these pick-up truck owners are hidden from the public for fear of reprisal from the buried masses.
The cold is usually so bitter that people curse out loud, usually conjugating their profanity with words such as "God" and "mother." Windshield wipers break. Skin dries, itches and cracks. Snow shovels sell out in 3.2 seconds in all area retail outlets. Rock salt sells out in early October and isn't seen from that point forward, so don't bother asking. People slip on the ice, fall down and yes, they go "boom."
The entire world slows down. You will be lucky if you get your mail on time. You will get it, rest assured. Just don't expect the carrier at the normal hour. Allow more time for everything from getting to work to opening your front door to forming a complete sentence.
Yellow snow lines our sidewalks. Huge icicles hang from neighborhood gutters. People forget that many thin layers are better than one thick layer. Ice scrapers can be heard sliding across windshields each morning. Feet crunch. The world is quieter.
We have come to expect these things from a real Muncie winter. Inconvenience is as much a part of winter life as making snow angels. This year, though, we've not had a winter, per se. The cold came, but not the real snow. Basically, without snow, we've missed winter altogether.
Well, I can't say we've "missed it."
For once, I'm not complaining. Mark your calendar, call in the dogs and strike up the band. The sun came out today. The world is not covered in white powder. I can find my car. When I get behind the wheel, my car starts. I can travel across town in no more time than normal. I don't have to wear nine shirts and three pairs of pants. I don't have to curse at pick-up truck owners. There is no yellow snow. The hypothesis that we have only one plow truck makes perfect sense this year.
There is joy in Muncie in this, our year without a winter. For that I am thankful. In a few short weeks, spring will be upon us, but I must point out that we shouldn't get cocky. We're not out of this yet. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if we got three feet of snow by next Monday. I'm still waiting for winter and I think I'll see it come. I'm like Linus waiting for the Great Pumpkin.
Just as leaving windows open can cause rain to come, discussing the lack of snow in print can bring a hellish winter storm the likes of which this hemisphere has never seen. We could end up buried up to our ears in powder because of my tomfoolery. I know my own luck; count on me to mention this and before I get out of this chair, the sky will dump.
You'll see.
Write to John at kingseyeland@hotmail.com
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