snoburbia, the blog

ain't nobody home

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I was driving with my friend past my neighborhood swim club at midday earlier this week. It was sunny and hot. "Why is the pool empty?" she said, rather stunned. 

I was rather stunned that she asked. In snoburbia, no one is home between mid-July and mid-August. They have taken to the friendly skies or hit the road. They are at the beach house, the mountain house or, around here, the river house. If they are here, it is only because they are just returning from Sweden or are about to leave for three weeks in New Hampshire.

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As fantabulous as snoburbia is the rest of the year, if you stay around here in the summer, you must really be lame. But I'm okay with it. It's 92 degrees out, and I'll have the snoburbia swimming pool to myself. Okay, I really am lame.

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what are you doing this summer?

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We are not going anywhere this summer. This is not okay.

I am messing up the snoburbia social order.

When I run into someone and she asks the obligatory, "What are you doing this summer?" and I say, "We're staying here," she blinks for a minute, not sure what to say. I've messed up the repartee. I need to mention my summer plans so she then can tell me about that great family camp in Maine, her son's trip to help rebuild Haiti, or her family's trip to British Columbia.

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hire a teen!

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It's summer, and you have lots of odd jobs to get done. Or you want to have a nice dinner out with your spouse, and plan to get a babysitter. So hire a teen!

News: Teens in snoburbia will not work for you. They have better things to do. They are mountain biking in Montana. Or they are at the beach with that friend whose mom and dad have the amazing beach house that comes with scooters and Jet Skis.

Oh, and they don't really need your piddling $15/hour. Are you f**ing kidding me? If you are lucky enough to find a teenager still around who is desperate enough to work, you had better come up with a serious cash offer. If he can't earn at least $50-75 for a couple of hours' work,* he won't even text you back. If you want to ensure he will actually show up, make it $100.

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* If you do hire a teen, and want to entertain him, please use the following phrase, "I used to babysit for $1 an hour."

midnight in snoburbia

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I went to see Midnight in Paris a couple of nights ago at Bethesda Row theaters.  The movie was an ode to Paris, which was rendered especially beautiful, magical. The audience was feeling the love for Paris. But I was feeling the love for... snoburbia. The theater had an espresso bar and stadium seating and fresh cookies. The women had good purses. But more importantly, the audience got even oblique references to literature and art and caricature. The crowd roared at Dali! and Hemingway. (But that was to be expected: In snoburbia, we love Woody Allen movies.*)

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* Only the ones without Woody Allen

proud to be an american

             

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Someone in my snoburban neighborhood has put up a wooden sign with an American flag painted on it. It's big. And it says, "Proud to Be an American" on it. Seriously.

Oh, yeah, maybe it's just for the Fourth of July. Whew. It's not bunting or a single cotton American flag, but so long as it is removed by the fifth of July, I guess it's okay.

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