For all intents and purposes, boys, we may as well be
living within twenty-five miles of the Arctic Circle.”
– History teacher Don McLennan, circa 1969-71, West Hill Secondary School, Owen Sound, Ontario
Mr. McLennan’s chatty rejoinder didn’t do more than serve as
mock fodder for the balance of my high school days.
But Mr. McLennan’s nerdy wisdom has stood the test of time.
I can’t begin to think of what it was we “boys” were talking about that day,
but I’ve never forgotten Mr. McLennan’s message.
As I write this (Jan. 26), the blizzard of the century –
wait a minute, maybe two centuries – is churning toward us here in Brooklyn. We
have our emergency supplies stocked and I’ve packed an overnight bag with the
idea that I may not be able to get home to Brooklyn from Manhattan tonight.
They are calling for as much as three feet of snow before it’s all over. When
it comes to newspaper work, I’ve always been essential personnel.
What’s it like to be twenty-five miles within the Arctic
Circle? When the wind howls, the snow swirls, step outside and within a New
York minute you’re disoriented. You’ve lost your easy landmarks, and footing is
potentially treacherous under all that snow. You can turn an ankle; if
your bones are brittle, they can break; bad falls like cracks on the sidewalk.
Inevitable.
So unless you’re essential personnel – police, fire or media
workers – you stay at home. Read. Laugh. Drink. Play Yahtzee. Write. Or if you’re born in the late ’90s or early ’00s,
waste your youth as elegantly imaginable, the video games and social media apps
have become so tantalizing.
But the power could go out. A centuries storm and you’d best
be prepared for that. Lanterns. Flashlights. Candles. Plenty of batteries,
kitchen matches. Then, you’re down to: Read. Laugh. Drink. Play Yahtzee. Write.
Through it all, you’ll talk. And hopefully not about the
weather. But on days like this, that’s okay. You’d want to remember this day.
It’s amazing what comes back in memory of those Arctic Circle-like times: 1966,
1996, and with luck, 2015.
After all, everyone is entitled to their own Don McLennan
moment. It has been a delight for me all these years.
Next: Running for Your Life: Knausgaard Vol. II
