Snow Day

For all of you that have wondered what became of the performing artist responsible for the early nineties hit “Informer”, it turns out that the magical story of his fate is a familiar folk tale here in Canada. According to recording industry insiders, Snow poured all of his creative juices into making “Informer” which climbed the music charts ascending into the stratosphere of success. Eventually all of Snow’s creative essence was absorbed into the atmosphere (leaving the white rapper 99% inspiration free and severely dehydrated) and as the world cooled to his unintelligible rhymes, the evaporated creativity formed ice crystals (not to confused with Vanilla Ice crystals), which fell silently to earth. In time, this meteorological phenomenon was named after the man responsible for it. To this day, Canadian children build Snowmen as a cautionary totem to remind budding Justin Biebers of the perilous pitfalls of life as a performing artist. Some say that if you listen closely, you can hear these frozen, sculpted priors whisper “…A licky boom boom down…”

Having not seen snow in many now, there was a certain child-like joy and wonder to waking up to find the world iced in ten centimetres of snow. It transforms the landscape with its’ complete disregard of man made delineations. It is obviously not well versed in notions of private property or possibly it has socialist inclinations as it indiscriminately levels the landscape, concealing the borders, paying no heed to social hierarchies blanketing lawns both the manicured and the threadbare. The austere, monochromatic tones of winter certainly reflect communist leanings but it is hard to dispel the feeling that there is something decidedly anarchic about snowfall. Observing the way the snowflakes come to roost on tree branches, cling to the lee side of street posts and effortlessly alight on the power line tightropes, it’s like an icy act of defiance against the forces of nature and gravity. Newton’s laws aren’t the only being broken as the mechanisms of the state are entombed in ice. The visual memory of: roads, fire hydrants and utilities, obliterated by the marauding water crystals.

Contrary to the “winter wonderland” tag that is often used to describe the pristine appearance of a landscape under the covering of snow there is the little discussed dirty underworld of this sub-zero playground. For every Disneyland moment there is developing world sweat-shop, in the dungeons deep beneath the happiest place on earth, where undiscovered Cinderellas produce affordable memories. The same is true in the snow. Look beyond the frosted gingerbread  cottages and you will see that it is not all reindeer with sleigh bells and candy canes.
The soundtrack to winter is a little less Bing Crosby and more:
"A million magic crystals, painted pure and white
A multi-million dollars almost overnight
Twice as sweet as sugar, twice as bitter as salt
And if you get hooked, baby, it's nobody else's fault, so don't do it!"
That's right Mr Grandmaster Flash, I've White Lines blowin' through my mind! The outside world looks the set of Scarface; people, automobiles are getting crazy on ice; used pine-needles litter the pavements and the roads look like they are lined with dirty crack rocks. The slippery slide is well documented, one day you may sitting on the deck with the smell of skunk lingering in the air and the next you are in casualty because your nose has collapsed due to a frost-bitten septum having snorted your driveway.

It is fast becoming clear why Georgio Armani would hold off launching collections until Spring. Black ice is not the only reason runways are treacherous for models at this time of year. Anna Wintour savaged the last designer to put size zero women in long johns, with multiple layered t-shirts, a Stanfield under a fluoro waterproof jacket with reflective highlights and finished off with a toque and mittens. Apparently she did not like the silhouette! Suddenly the minus fourteen degree over night temperature is bringing into focus the logic behind the previously inexplicable fashion trends of Cat work boots, puffy jackets and the Seattle grunge layered look. Currently I have been pushing the boundaries of cold weather couture with knee length woollen socks (last seen on Olivia Newton-John's 1981 tour of Antarctic RSL clubs) under a pair boots that only rated to -70 Celsius, offset by toque coiffed hair.

Whilst salting the roads is a common and necessary practice to ensure that they are free of ice, it has hidden and unexpected side-effects. When cooking with Canadian seafood it is important to be aware to under season as much of it has been reared in the briny ocean outfall.  This high sodium diet is having devastating effects on the native wildlife. The orca population complains of shortness of breath and hypertension is hampering sockeye salmon in their efforts to climb the fish ladders to spawn. One plus is that the iodized road salt has reduced the rate of goiter in sea lions.

One thing is for certain winter is a frustrating time for your inner perfectionist. When shovelling the snow    from the driveway, I could feel myself channelling Lady MacBeth. "Out, damned ice spot!...What, will these driveways ne'er be cleared?" As I knelt on the concrete gently thawing it with a blow dryer, I gazed further afield and realised that I had a greater purpose in life; to save the vegetation of the world from freezer burn. Now I am but one man on a cling wrap crusade to seal in the freshness of a landscape under a meteorological assault.

The phrase "pure as snow" is somewhat of a misnomer considering its' associations with: questionable clothing; a forgotten white rapper; drug connotations; excessive salt and an indecipherable political agenda. Despite all of this, I feel an overwhelming urge to embrace the cold and warm the cockles of my heart with a candy cane latte supreme.