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Arts & Entertainment

From Digging Out to Pigging Out

Humorist, Mary Tompsett, tackles the snow and the Super Bowl.

As the big storm approached, I skidded over to the grocery store for a few things, along with the rest of the free world. It’s amazing what people buy, isn’t it?  The guy in front of me at the checkout had filled his cart with boxes of dog treats, and about 40 bananas. That’s it. Makes you wonder…on second thought, let’s not go there.

Wasn’t digging out FUN?!?  Years ago I might’ve snagged assistance by playing the “flirt” card, baring a little leg to any dude on a snow plow, and frostbite be damned. Then came the self-sufficiency stage when “I am woman, hear me roar!” meant doing it all myfrigginself. Eventually I quit roaring and began to play the “old lady” card—Oh, young man! Could you plow my drive? I baked cookies….

In reality, people turned out to help each other with snow blowers, shovels, and other creative endeavors. I know of one woman who dragged 30 feet of electrical cord out to the mailboxes and melted drifts—with her curling iron.

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Got a big family? You’ll quickly clear the drive if you strap the kids’ feet onto cookie sheets and send ’em all out to play! The storm left behind a wintry playground in which to make snowmen, forts, and snow angles.  That’s not a typo; I do mean angles. Once you’ve flung yourself into a snow bank and thrashed out a rhombus or trapezoid, it’s damn hard to go back to plain old snow angels.

On Super Bowl morning, where were you when the power went out? I must say, using the Douglas Diner restroom in complete darkness was guldang spooky! But denial is a reliable coping skill—I kept my eyes closed.

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Between the storm and the Super Bowl, shoppers jammed the grocery stores and stuffed their carts with 12-packs of soda, mounds of snacks, and huge Packer sheet cakes. I bypassed the store-bought desserts and concocted a healthy low fat, no sugar, gluten-free cake with tofu frosting. Later during the game, my friends and I alternated between chewing our food and our fingernails. Of course, everyone left the party in joyness and happitude because the Packers won! And all because I’d forgotten to serve the cake.

By the way, if you find a curling iron near the mailboxes, it’s mine.

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