Blizzard. A foot or more of snow is forecast. Wife and child arriving in Boston at 10 pm from Beijing via Newark. I wake Saturday morning, check status. The Flight is in the air but Boston leg cancelled. Wimps of Continental! I jump in car and drive 267 miles from Cape Cod to Newark. Sstarted snowing as soon as I arrived.
One hour until they land. Maybe we hit the road for home at 7, exactly when the storm is supposed to hit.
Will we be nailed on Rte. 95 or will we make it?
Anyway, when I asked the ladies at the airline how to let my wife know I was here after driving four hours from Mass. they asked: “Are there any more men like you up there?”
[update: We fled Newark at 7 pm, driving was on verge of atrocity status. Hunkered down for the long haul, images of the Donner Party meets Westport in my head. As soon as we cleared that post-apocalypse highway — the Cross Bronx — and crossed into halycon Greenwich, the snow ceased, the roads were clear and we sailed home to hearth, home, and dogs at 11 pm. Awoke to six inches and more on the way. NYC buddy says a foot on the ground and six more to come. I will not be travelling to the Research Triangle tomorrow — snow day!]