Yesterday my colleague, Alex Young, wrote about the first snowfall. She wrote that she’s a winter girl at heart. Well, I’m no Beach Boy (although I like their music), but I would be very willing to send all of Chicago’s snow this winter to Alex in New York.

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I approach snowfall with this usual question, “What good can come of this?” For me, the answer is always, “None!”

We got our first snowfall of the season on Monday night. We all heard it was coming. The weatherpeople put up all of the nasty stats and bad graphics warning us of impending doom. Yet, Tuesday morning, the streets were a mess everywhere. City and suburban officials stated that they hadn’t expected it to be this bad. This bad? We got about an inch. How could they not be ready? With no snow yet, and already this late in the year, I’d think they would have been more than capable of handling this apparent surprise dusting. And, of course, we got all the silly shots of reporters standing by the expressways and freezing as wind and snow attacked them from all sides. Do we really need them out there for us to understand it is cold and nasty?

Lastly, don’t get me started on the Bears-loving, tough Chicagoans, who completely lose all of their driving skills the minute the pavement gets moist. We’re tough. We’re gritty. Blah, blah, blah . . . we need to learn how to drive!

Don’t worry about me, though. I will not let snow get me down. It is only about 12 short weeks until March 1, which I always declare is the beginning of spring. I can almost hear the sound of lawnmowers happily slicing through the grass (or maybe that is the salt trucks finally making their rounds).

— John Wroblewski, distribution specialist