Paul Turner: Shoveling snow makes one wonder

All sorts of questions come to mind when you’re shoveling snow.

Is this why people move to those new developments that don’t have sidewalks?

How long will it be before a snow plow comes along and buries the pristine path I just labored to create?

Am I the only one out here muttering the song “Sixteen Tons”?

If I slip and fall, will the snow cushion my impact?

What would Abraham Lincoln think of the current president?

How often is Valentine’s Day overkill a sign of guilt?

Would Bobby Orr be dominant in today’s NHL?

Was that twisting/lifting motion I just did the exact thing that caused my knee-buckling back spasm last year?

Does that calico cat actually believe I think she is a man-eating snow leopard?

Do you say snow blower or snow thrower?

Is it time to break out the winter coat?

If, when I go in, I reach my bare hands beneath people’s sweaters and place them on warm flesh, will they squeal?

How old do you have to be before some strapping young neighbor volunteers to come over and clear your driveway?

Where would you rank on a list of Spokane’s experts re: What is or is not excellent packing snow?

How many things are more fun than hearing a little kid try to say “abominable”?

What’s more entertaining to talk about in February: Most incredible skiing injuries or the overconfidence of motorists with four-wheel drive?

What is it about snow that makes dogs trip out?

Would people who live in places where it never snows get a bang out of our recent weather? (At least for a while.)

Know your ancient TV Western trivia

In the episode of “Have Gun/Will Travel” called “The Sanctuary” that first aired on Dec. 31, 1960, one of the characters is named Coeur d’Alene. Pronounced like we say it. But spelled “Cordilene” in the closing credits.

That character, a bad guy, was played by James Anderson, perhaps best known for his portrayal of Robert E. Lee “Bob” Ewell in the 1962 movie version of “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

Also appearing in that show, playing the part of a priest with a temper, was Albert Salmi. You might recall that this well-traveled character actor was a Spokane resident when he died in 1990.

That all seems mildly interesting to me. But I have a hunch that if you shared this with a friend or relative – especially grandchildren – you would get the look.

You know. The “What color is the sky in your world?” look.

So let’s just keep this between us.

End note

What has our recent weather brought to mind?

I found myself recalling when I was in junior high and my family lived on an Air Force base on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Winters were long and snowy there.

Base kids, a relatively diverse lot, went to school in a small farming town about nine miles away. For the most part, we got along with the town kids.

But in one respect, there was a gulf between us. You see, the town kids really, really, really cared about snowmobiles. So much so that they were practically divided up into rival gangs whose memberships were determined entirely by the brand of snowmobile their families owned. (The town kids always said “snow machine.”)

Maybe this tension wasn’t on a level with the Capulets and the Montagues or the Sharks and the Jets. But it was intense.

Arctic Cat kids looked askance at Ski-Doo kids. Polaris kids never stopped ribbing Evinrude kids.

And base kids were, well, irrelevant. At least when it came to snowmobiles. In the eyes of our classmates who were the children of Finnish-American farmers, we just didn’t speak the language.

I don’t recall any teenage romances being nipped in the bud by conflicting snowmobile brand loyalties. But those allegiances to different makes were memorably on a par with devotion to certain lines of trucks or tractors. In farm country, that’s serious business.

Someone should have written a play about it.

Columnist Paul Turner can be reached at srpaulturner@gmail.com.