Country roads, not covered with snow
We're not quite to a suicide watch in ski country, but we have begun to listen to an awful lot of country music.
Just ask around. Seriously.
From Squaw Valley to Sugarloaf, Pandoras are set on Toby Keith and ITunes libraries are spewing out Jerry Jeff.
My insurance guy, my graphic designer, my co-workers, the breakfast deli this morning ... Everybody is on the country-western train.
The more I think about it, the more it makes perfect sense. For 90% of the lower 48, winter storms are playing hard to get. Frisky little cold fronts brush up against our legs, then run for the door. The man on the radio keeps telling us that big snows are just around the corner, and then he moves the corner.
It's a winter of 'just missed' opportunities, barstool therapy and shared melancholy. And even though it isn't necessarily cured by a big dose of twang and pedal steel, it definitely feels like the right soundtrack.
I've even started poking around regional ski blogs, reading them out loud with a Toby Keith twist, just to see if I can find a little more proof of this year's country western close encounter.
If you find a better one, definitely let me know.