First snow: An existential crisis story

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Timothy Stolp

The first snow hit this week.

Timothy Stolp, Staff Writer

Earlier this week, I got in a fender-bender during driver’s ed and the jolting feeling got me thinking about what really matters: Who I truly am, and what my life goals are. My new plan—I am going to move to Ecuador.

Alright, maybe not Ecuador, but definitely somewhere that doesn’t have to deal with this pathetic mayhem. Every year it seems the entire population of South Dakota gasps simultaneously as though they’re cave people seeing snow for the first time, unaware of the impending Ice Age that is coming. Even though the majority do not want to admit it, deep down, we all know how much we despise the snow, so we trick ourselves into a false sense of security in the summers. We are violently aware that there is nothing pleasurable about waking up at the crack of dawn just to shovel before the rooster even coughs (because it too is suffering from a minor cold). There is nothing nice or fun about going outside and seeing moderately beautiful flecks of frigid water getting brutally smacked to the side with harsh winds. So we keep daydreaming while it’s fall and summer, but the ones who feel guttural disgust towards this season have been the Homo Sapiens surrounded by Neanderthals.

The first snow of the 2017 winter instantly brought a driver sliding down the hill and right into the rear-end of my driver’s ed vehicle. That was my first experience driving. I’m scarred. What am I supposed to tell people when I’m 25 and still can’t drive without flashing back to that moment? I won’t have to. I’m moving to a place that is relatively Ecuador-like, which means I won’t have to deal with poorly-executed first snow preparation any longer.