Blizzard

Apparantly the blizzard of 2006 was record breaking. It started Saturday night so all I had to do was shovel my walk. Which means I have nothing interesting to say about it.

Every other blizzard I got something. One year we shot our first Play Cole film. One year I took acid. One year I was on a bus to D.C. which gave up the ghost after 15 hours. One year we watched cars plow into two foot snow drifts on Queens Boulevard. One year it rained and turned Rockaway to glass. But the best memory is from the blizzard of 96.

The snow was starting to fall when Walker called me. He had the chicken pox and sitting alone in his apartment for five days was starting to get to him. He begged me to come over but I said no. They were expecting two feet of snow, for crissake. I'd be stuck in your apartment. I can barely see out my window. I'd have to walk a mile to your house in this. No.

He called back five minutes later. There was a girl in the neighborhood that I had been in love with since high school. I won't mention her name but anyone that ever met me in the 90's knows who it was. It was that obvious. Walker tells me she's stranded and has to stay over his place. I left the house that second.

It was the greatest setup in the world. I'd come over to keep him company and there she'd be. We'd get stranded in the apartment and Walker would take his very drowsy medication. We'd put him in the other room and maybe the lights would go out. You could not plan this better. It was the most beautiful raging snowstorm I've ever walked.

I got there covered in snow and found Walker alone. Where was she? Walker had no idea but he was sure she'd be here soon. I was starting to feel duped. We spent the next thirty hours flipping between an ABBA marathon and the Twilight Zone. The whole thing had the feel of a long car trip, the kind where you really get to know each other. I don't know that I've ever laughed harder.

The next day the girl called. She got stuck a few blocks up at a friend's house but was coming by now. The snow was still falling so she couldn't get home. The perfect setup was once again perfect.

You never saw a diseased man spring into action like Walker. I think partially he was grateful I stayed and partially liked the setup so he cleaned the entire place, dimmed the lights and lit candles. He actually lit candles. Then he took his drowsy medication and tried to look half dead.

She arrived looking gorgeous. Seeing as she had been in the same clothes for three days she had no right to look as good as she did. Her red sweater looked as warm and soft as if it had just come out of the dryer. Her eyes glittered in the candlelight. She settled onto the couch and we talked for an hour as Walker prepared to slip into a well-timed coma.

Then there was a knock on the door. There was a knock on the door? Yes, there was a knock on the door. But we're stranded. Who could possibly get to the door? Well, you remember Thaddeus? It was him. He and Mike Doyle decided to drive over and take the dog for a walk. But the bridge was closed. Yeah, they didn't care. The dog likes the snow. They were just heading home. By the way, did the girl need a ride back? Of course she did.

The three of them seemed to fade as they put on their coats and walked out. Thaddeus and Doyle gave me bear hugs, unaware of the damage they had done. As the girl put on her coat she gave me a look. She knew about the setup. She approved of the setup. And if there wasn't a free ride home involved, she would have gone through with the setup. The door slammed shut as they left. Walker hung his head, laughed and fell asleep.

I spent the next six months trying to win the girl or at least recreate that moment but it never happened. I eventually moved out of Rockaway and that ended the flirtation. It's ten years later and when I think about that blizzard now it's not the missed connection I feel. It's laughing with Walker until the tears rolled down our faces. And that's something we still do.