Winter must be one of two things — warm or apocalyptically snowy. This one has been neither. In the wake of the year’s worst snowstorm, which resulted in five inches and the college equivalent of a two-hour delay, I can’t help but be disappointed.
Winter is actually one of my favorite seasons. It contains the best holiday, Christmas, and I am theoretically a fan of Valentine’s Day even though I’ve never had a girlfriend during the holiday. If nothing else, it brings great February 15th candy sales and allows me to drown my sorrows in cherry fun dip while blasting the authoritative 1995 bootleg of Radiohead’s “True Love Waits.” I also love sweater weather, the red cheeks of a chilly day and pulling my covers tighter on a cold night.
This winter got off to an inauspicious start as temperatures fluctuated between below freezing and mid-60s. I had looked forward to wearing my overcoat to Christmas dinner, but the holiday fell on a particularly non-white, 60-degree day.
Since we came back from break, the forecast has been simultaneously cold and sunny — an uncomfortable combination with no benefit. I have no problem with winter being so warm that it passes without complaint, but if it is going to be cold, I want something to show for it. I want huge piles of snow, like the one that lingered next to Chipotle for months last year until it turned black with shopping-center grime. I want to trudge through the snow-filled Wertland Street in search of an open restaurant.
Snow days have a surreal quality. You wander aimlessly through a winter wasteland, from time to time passing classmates and friends. Even if there is likely to be class the next day, homework doesn’t enter the picture until much later. It’s a fulfillment of the fantasy of college life — without any of the work.
I really had my hopes up for this storm. Most of my professors made offhand references to the snow in class and there was a buzz of uncertainty around Monday’s basketball game. The first bad omen was a message from one of my professors saying we would be taking our test on Tuesday regardless of weather cancellations. While I otherwise like this professor, this was the professor equivalent of the classmate who reminds the teacher to collect homework.
After some deliberation, I decided to go to the basketball game and keep my streak of perfect attendance alive. Hearing rumors that those who made it to JPJ might not make it back, I prepared for the worst, but the walk over was bearable. On the way back, I saw that peak snowfall expected for game time hadn’t occurred and class cancellations wouldn’t be announced until after 10 p.m. Even when the “classes will open at 11 a.m.” message appeared on the website, I hoped it was a temporary placeholder and I would wake up to full cancellations. I was wrong.
Maybe I’ve just been spoiled by recent history. During my first year, everyone said the University hadn’t canceled classes since the Civil War, then we promptly missed two days of school for a hurricane that never came our way. Likewise, last year, we had enough snow for me to get tired of snow days. Maybe I should be happy my 9:30 a.m. class was canceled, but honestly, I’m not. Two-hour delays really just make everything worse — they are the fake rewards signifying a snow day that hasn’t come to fruition. Perhaps I shouldn’t lose hope in March snow, but with each passing day, our opportunity to enjoy a real snow day gets a little smaller.
Christian’s column runs biweekly Fridays. He can be reached at c.hecht@cavalierdaily.com.
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