South Carolina snow

Last night's 5.5-inch snowfall proved I've completely lost touch with my hardy Midwestern roots.

We don't get a lot of snow in Upstate South Carolina, so when we get any trace amount we're completely incapacitated. Schools close, government offices close, dentists and barbecue restaurants close, and everybody and their youth group contacts the local news channels to have their business and church added to the ticker for a day's worth of free advertising/evangelizing.

So, once we realize our Monday morning Knitters for Critters meeting at First Baptist has been canceled, we're free to get out drive on unplowed streets.

We South Carolinians don't have a lot of things it would make sense to have (adequate public schools, etc.), and it doesn't make sense to have a fleet of snow plows, so we really don't have them. They do have a little sand to toss on the bridges, but that doesn't stop the normally stupid and reckless NASCAR wannabes from driving just like they always do. They get into wrecks and we hear how the snow made some redneck's Camaro crash on the sandy bridge, strewing Mountain Dew cans across three lanes of traffic.

It's just not safe to drive around these people, so we stay at home the best we can.

It wasn't too long ago that we'd sit back and laugh at how dumb it was that the Southerners would crowd the grocery stores at the first sign of a flurry to stock up on bread and milk, just in case we're trapped for days and they have nothing but dry cereal and empty toasters. But there I was yesterday, in a line five-buggies (that's what they call carts down here) deep, getting bread and milk. We actually needed bread and milk, and it was a baguette, but still I felt like a fool.

Then the snow came in big hunky flakes and I wanted to play in it. I made the family get bundled up in our Southern winterwear, which was pretty pitiful. The kid has a winter coat, hat, boots and mittens (which she calls her "minions"). The wife has a dressy peacoat and a bunch of scarves. I have my Great Grandpa Montgomery's fall jacket from Sears, a winter hat, some garden gloves and a pair of 8-year-old Nike hightops. I haven't had working boots in about 6 years.

What we would do outside in the snow, I didn't know. We don't have a sled. I tried the Rubbermaid lid trick, but both the snow and my body were too wet and thick to slide anywhere. We made it to the edge of the driveway before our child, who I remind you had on the most weather-appropriate clothes, started saying, "Go back, go back!" like we we were on the verge of being drawn into some haunted Indian burial site. It was just the mailbox.

We went back inside and waited it out until morning. At first the wife thought she would have to go in to her office at 1:00 p.m., so I went out like the burly Midwestern hero I am to scrape the snow and ice off her car. I lost two teeth from the scraper before deciding to just lift the huge chunks of snow off the car and toss them into the driveway.

Had I still lived in the Midwest, I would have realized that wasn't the best method of disposal because our 5.5 inches quickly turned into about 7.5 inches before my Southern eyes. We don't have snow shovel. Nobody does. It's the freaking South.

Now, I'm craving Arby's and can't get out of the driveway for fear of being stuck in melty snow. Cheddar Melty.

The snow will melt this afternoon, leaving a lot of wet roads that will freeze once the sun goes down tonight. The news people are already warning that there'll be a bunch of "dangerous black guys" on the roads tonight, so don't drive if you don't have to. They're so racist down here. I seriously doubt there'll be more black guys on the road. They stay home in the cold just like black gals, white guys, brown guys, purple guys.

Oh! Black ice. Not black guys.

I love that joke and wrote this whole damn thing just to use it.