25 August 2006

Snow rage


Like you, my fellow Northern hemisphere dwellers, I've had occasion to do some shovelling in my day. That would make me a shoveller, like you, and everyone else with a driveway.

But it occurs to me whenever I'm out there bullying my snow into submission that the term "shoveller" is too far too broad a church to define the diversity of shovellers who inhabit this cold hemisphere.

It seems to me that we can learn something from the Inuit people who have many ways to describe snow. In a winter like this, a shoveller is not just shoveller. A shoveller is a many-splendored thing.

So in this spirit, I offer a few different archetypes of the shoveller.

1. The civil engineer shoveller. Approaches a snow-filled driveway with a mental blue print. Assesses depth, width and length of snow-to-be-shovelled and then calculates most efficient effort-to-snow removal ratio. Sidewalks always cleared to spec.

2. The why-didn't-I-buy-that-snow blower-when-it-was-on-sale-last-winter shoveller. Fooled by arrival of spring, this archetype lapses into seasonal denial about the existence of winter and naively spends money on barbeques, lawn care products and little ornamental flowers, only to rue the day when the snow arrives. Full of self-loathing.

3. Protestant work ethic shoveller. Sees snow, finds shovel and gets to work. No complaints or moaning here. No enjoyment either. It's just another job that must be done so they get out there and they do it. End of story.

4. Catholic guilt shoveller. (Having grown up here, I have some appreciation). Performs as fastidiously as Protestant brethren, but is motivated by different reasons. Catholic guilt shoveller worries about what will happen if they don't shovel. After all, someone could slip and hurt themselves. And what if they’re ticketed for failing to shovel the sidewalk?

5. The woe-is-me shoveller. Takes the snow storm personally. Regards shovelling as yet another cross to bear. Always overestimates the amount of snow which has fallen. Sighs heavily and often.

6. The clean freak shoveller (also known as the M. Stewart shoveller). Makes sure every last flake is obliterated no matter how severe the storm. Chirps at sight of bare driveway, sidewalk and step. Judgmental of slobs who fail to live up to these standards.

7. Trailer Park Boy shoveller. I've never seen Ricky shovelling Sunnyvale Trailer Park but can imagine it would go something like this: "I effin' hate effin' winter. I effin' hate snow and I really effin' hate shovelling. They only thing snow's good for is stuffing up effin' Leahy's nose." Sound familiar anyone?

8. The Sergeant Major shoveller. Sees a snowstorm as an opportunity to teach the adolescent offspring a little something about the value of hard work. While beleaguered adolescent shovels, Sergeant Major provides rolling commentary on how much snow "we" used to get in the good old days and how kids back then weren't afraid of work.

9. Snow rage shoveller. Has propensity to throw beer bottles at plow just before it fills in mouth of a freshly shovelled driveway.

10. Cardio shoveller. Usually a runner whose athletic workouts have been severely curtailed by snow. Views a snowed-in driveway as an opportunity for endorphin release. Only stops to take heart rate. Does plenty of stretching before and after shovelling.

11. Snow blower envy shoveller. Covets neighbours' winter machines. Thinks size matters.

12. Smug snow blower owner shoveller. Occasionally gets shovel out to dust off front step and to feel like member of the snow-removing proletariat. Has no problem making friends with non-snow blowing neighbours.

13. Florida shoveller. Spends snow removal budget on golf clubs and sun block cream.