There’s supposed to be a huge snowstorm bearing down on the Midwest, including our little neighborhood in Columbus, Ohio. Some people apparently are worried about it.
Last night, Kish and I went out to dinner, and our waiter asked us — only half facetiously — whether we had scurried off to the supermarket to lay in supplies of bottled water. When I looked puzzled, he helpfully added that an incoming winter storm was supposed to arrive overnight and drop 4 to 6 inches of snow on Columbus. The message was clear: winter storm = need water. Lots and lots of water, apparently, and not the out of the tap variety, either.
Of course, we didn’t go directly to the store to buy a case or two of bottled water. I’ve never succumbed to storm frenzy, and I’m not quite sure why other people are so susceptible to it. In the Midwest, in winter, a snowstorm that drops 4 to 6 inches of the white stuff isn’t an everyday occurrence, but it’s certainly common enough that people shouldn’t freak out about it.
And the need for bottled water baffles me, too. I don’t drink bottled water under normal circumstances, so why would I suddenly start doing so because of a snowstorm? I’m perfectly happy with whatever comes out of the faucet. And winter storms aren’t like hurricanes that might knock out water facilities and leave people without electricity or water for days or even weeks. To my recollection, we’ve always had water even in the aftermath of the greatest blizzards, like the Great Blizzard of ’78. And the nice thing about a snowstorm is — it provides its own supply of water. If Kish and I get really desperate, we can always scoop up some of the white stuff and wait for it to melt.
As I write this, I see that snow has started falling. The storm must be here! You know, it kind of makes me thirsty.