Typical of New Englanders, there were myriad complaints of cold weather (in December) and snow (in December, in the northeast). Then, a massive snowstorm was forecast, causing New Englanders to flock to the stores (to stock up on bottled water and shitty beer) and to forget all that they ever knew about driving in the snow.
Before flake one fell, The Lifeguard's neighbours were idling their cars (to warm their car interiors and the planet (with the emission of greenhouse gases)) and preparing buckets of sand and salt, organising snow shovels, and fueling snow blowers. They were filling their larders with staples, anticipating weeks--or months--of being snowed in by the Blizzard of 2010. A visit to the local supermarket was not unlike a shopping trip in Cuba: Empty shelves, and surly workers. (The only thing missing was a copy of Granma and a picture of the Maximum Leader.)
As the storm took hold, the plows began patrolling the streets, blades up, as empty Dunkin' Donuts Styrofoam accumulated in the dark recesses of their cabs. Indeed, America (or, at least the snowplows) run on Dunkin's. Indeed, with several inches on the ground, the plows were doing little (or nothing) to help the situation, as the blades were a good foot off of the ground; and, sand trucks were not sanding. (It is all a part of the Governor Deval Patrick's austerity plan, designed to close the Commonwealth's budget deficit.)
At midnight, the snow was still falling; and, The Lifeguard was settling in for a restful night with a tumbler of single malt and a good book. (That, and thoughts of digging out of the mess that will be left when the plows start plowing, in another hour or so.)
Then, came the morning, and an end to the snowfall. Gusting winds had caused the snow to drift against the house, and the plows had closed the end of the drive. (Thank Christ for snow blowers...and sons.) And, with the sun shining, and winds blowing, The Lifeguard took to his own little piece of Global Warming, and cleaned up.