A Christmas Comedy of Errors

There were a lot of things about this Christmas that didn’t quite go as planned – mainly due to the uncooperative weather. The Cities, along with a much larger section of Minnesota, were stuck in the middle of a three-day storm that pushed right through the holiday season. All told, I have at least 12 inches of snow that wasn’t in my yard at the beginning of the week.

The snow was welcome for those who like to build snow dragons - such as my daughter

That also means that I needed to act upon a change in travel plans. Prior to the storm, the plans were to spend Christmas Eve at The Ex’s place with my daughter. We’d have a low-key evening with fondue and prime rib, open a few gifts and play a few games. After a present-drop from Santa that evening, I was planning to pick up my daughter and take her to Glenwood on Christmas morning to hang with the Jenum troop. But, as the snow and rain started to settle in throughout Christmas Eve day, it was obvious that I was going nowhere and plans had to be altered.

Christmas Eve went according to plan. After performing round one of clearing the driveway with my old, rusty blower that I bought off a co-worker sometime in the mid-90s, I was off – slipping and sliding – on the roads for the short trip to The Ex. Moving from a 4WD truck to my little car for its first winter season has not been without some harrowing moments, as I’m still trying to figure out what “Dynamic Traction Control” actual does to the car in slippery, snow-filled conditions. But, I made it and enjoyed the remainder of the day.

After navigating my way home that evening and waking up Christmas Day, I looked out the window and realized that I wasn’t going anywhere (Glenwood or even a few miles down the road), until I cleared out the driveway for a second time. Overnight, the wonderful City of Plymouth decided to build a three foot wall of snow at the end of the driveway. This second round of snow was the ugly kind – since the temperatures were hovering around the freezing point. It was as compact and heavy as possible. It was the kind of snow where there is always the unfortunate news of some fella having a heart attack due to over-exertion.

The snow was deep and heavy after two full steady days of snowfall.

But, if I was to leave the house and at least spend the day with my daughter again, I needed to get it clear – as the additional six inches of snow was more than my little car can navigate.

Prior to getting the old snowblower going again, I realized I did not have enough gas to make it through the entire driveway. So, I gave myself a goal of getting the hard part – the mound of snow at the end from the city plows – and a narrow path cleared so I could drive out and buy some more gas to finish the job.

- aside: Aren’t we spoiled in the US that I can count on the fact that gas stations are open on Christmas?

Well, being the cautious single guy that I am, I also stashed my cellphone in my pocket prior to working with the snow. My phone is an older, clunky Samsung Blackjack that is standard issue from my job. In today’s world of incredible smartphones, this one comes across as rather dumb – for reasons you will understand in a minute.

After some manual shoveling, I got the snowblower going and was working hard at digging my way out of the driveway. For the next 30 minutes, I was pushing hard against the blower, twisting and bumping my body against the handles to get the blower to push into the compacted snow. My blower is underpowered and not very effective, so it takes a real workout to get it to do its job. All the time, my cellphone was in my pocket performing tasks unbeknown to me.

As predicted, I ran out of gas, but I had cleared enough of the driveway to get out with the new car and refill. I jumped in the car, turned down the block, and was surprised to meet my Ex coming my direction. We met in the middle of the road and I rolled down my window to see what was up and why she was coming over to my house. She looked all worried and said that I just about gave her a heart attack this morning. Apparently, while working the snow and the blower, the phone in my pocket was dialing her cell phone repeatedly. But, instead of hearing any distinctive sounds, she heard muffled noises and raucous machine sounds. One call could be chalked up to an accidental “butt dial” – but my phone was persistent and kept calling for over four separate times (all with the same, muffled sounds).

My Ex has a bit of wild imagination and generally leans towards the “excessive worrying” side of the spectrum, so it was assumed (based on the phone calls) that I was laying half-dead in the middle of the driveway with half of my body mauled by the snowblower. I think she was envisioning the final wood-chipper scene in Fargo – where blood would be splattered across the beautiful white snow. So, she jumped in her truck and also called the neighbor to check on me (or to “find my body”) before she arrived.

- again – all of this was happening without any knowledge to me.

Contrary to popular belief, I survived the Christmas Storm of 2009.

After verifying that I was in fact alive, I stopped by my neighbors to indicate that I am indeed among the living and jumped back in the car. Less than a half mile from my house, I noticed a Plymouth Fire/Rescue truck come racing past me, headed in the general direction of my house. I thought in my head “someone must have had a heart attack due to this heavy snow” and I kept going down the road. I thought my excitement was over and I still needed a little more gas for the blower.

Instead – while my Ex was driving to my house – my phone had also dialed her home phone number and my daughter answered. Again, it was the same thing, with muffled sounds and nothing distinct to understand why I was calling. With her mom out of the house and my daughter being very scared, she dialed 911 and told the dispatcher that her dad could possibly be suffering some type of an attack (asthma or heart-related) and needed help.

Thus, the Plymouth Fire/Rescue truck (and an ambulance from North Memorial) were descending upon my house for ME. Upon learning that my daughter dialed 911, my Ex called me again to state that I better get back to my house to describe the circumstances to the first responders and get them on their way to more important events.

Fortunately, the authorities were able to talk with my neighbors – who now knew that I was alive – and send them away even before I could get back to the house to verify my health condition.

Thus, Christmas was not without a little excitement this year. I feel bad about involving some dedicated emergency staff, but am thankful that they were available and extremely quick to respond.

Next time it snows, my damn phone is staying inside the house. If I cut my leg off with the snowblower, I guess I’ll have to crawl back to the house first, before I dial up my Ex and make garbled, rustling sounds into the phone (since the snowblower would have also taken off my tongue).