Snowstorms — they bring out best and worst in men

Today’s verbiage was supposed to be about my new mentorship life with Kristyn Wolf, an eighth-grader from Boardman Glenwood Middle School.

She is my “mentee,” as she put it.

The mentor program at Boardman pairs students with professionals in targeted fields. Kristyn is eager for a media career, and Saturday we were set to hang out for a few hours along with other mentors and “mentees.”

Mother Nature, however, had a different plan.

So instead of hanging with Kristyn Saturday morning, I was hanging with my snowblower in my driveway.

Making those laps, the mind can wander ...

UMy snowblower is a little Toro electric thrower. It was given to me years ago by an elderly relative.

Often, I’ve contemplated ditching it.

It sounds like a toy car, and its size makes it ideal for cleaning bathrooms.

When it chomps into big snows, it looks like those mini dogs that can’t jump onto the couch.

Also, I’m a Buffalo native, and Buffalo snowblowers are hulking machines. A Buffalo family of four often can be seen riding snowblowers along the roadside much like you see Amish carriages in New Wilmington.

“Honey! I’m off on the snowblower to buy some more parkas!” is common among Buffalo parlance.

So when Buffalo relatives come visit and see my Toro bathroom cleaner, they laugh. Snowblowers are traditionally a guy’s world, and in that world, too often, size matters — homes, engines, McDonald’s meals and other things.

My li’l Toro does not measure up.

This weekend, it did. Twice tackling loads of 6 to 8t inches deep across a long, two-car driveway.

I sent a finished picture back to Buffalo friends — me and my little Toro.

UHow bad was the snow? With mine, I saw pockets of icy blue cold within snow crevices — the kind you see in pictures of Alaska. That was shocking to see.

UHow not bad was it? My neighbor was out for her morning power walk — arms and knees flailing away. I wished that with that much energy at 8 a.m., she would just put it all into my driveway.

UI was out till 12:30 Saturday morning (or Friday night) snowblowing the 7 or so inches in the driveway — much to my family’s and neighbor’s dismay. When I awoke Saturday morning to find another 7 inches awaiting me, the night before was a worthy investment.

UGuys will make a science project out of anything. And we get no more transfixed than when it comes to snowfall — and lawn-cutting. The two tasks essentially employ the same brain cells.

This summer, when I taught my son to mow the lawn, he had a dazed look as I explained the intricacies of mower path development and grass blade fatigue caused by lack of path variation.

He answered: “Huh?”

With Saturday’s snow, I was able to do patterns again. After careful assessment of drift location and wind pattern, off I went. And as I looked down my street, there were other men in other driveways — sculpting away.

UAs I carved out to the end of my driveway, I did ponder a way to shape the snow pile at the edge of my driveway. I sought any way to thwart the township plow’s wake from walling me back in.

Alas, my 50-pound snow jetty was no match for the tons of steel behind the township plow. For my next jetty, I’ll reinforce it with garden stakes.

UI made sure to dig out my orange Vindy box and my mailbox. While the plow guys might not like my jetties, my paper person likes easy orange box access to enable good Sunday morning reading.