The dream of a White Christmas was kind of like a nightmare.

AUBURN, Maine —Anybody who dreamed of this White Christmas, should be, and I am quoting one of my favorite writers, Charles Dickens, “boiled in in their own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through their heart.”

Bing Crosby has suddenly become my enemy and his holiday dream turned into a nightmare for many snowbound residents of New England. I never understood why Irving Berlin wrote this song. 

Did he ever shovel his driveway or try to drive a car in snow!

I was going to spend the afternoon eating, drinking and being merry, but a Nor’easter dropped a foot of snow on us this Christmas and buried both my driveways with annoying white powder.

But now my son and I will be manning the shovels and cursing another snowstorm on Christmas. Instead of raising a toast to my fine family, I will be tossing snow over my shoulder in the Arctic air.

Bah humbug! Are there no work houses for Mother Nature and Old Man Winter?

I would have preferred the sun, temperatures in the high 30s and a place to walk without fear of slipping on ice and hitting the ground with a skull-cracking thud.

Yeah, baby it’s cold outside!

Yukon Cornelius had it right when he screamed, “It is not fit for man nor beast.”

But before you call me Scrooge, I used my girth and muscle and extricated a car stuck in snow.

But no good deed goes unpunished. The plow came and left a wall a snow in front of my driveways the could have only been scaled with repelling gear.

I am lucky to be surrounded by neighbors who know how to be right neighborly and haven’t lost the Christmas spirit. Two of them snowblowed my driveways despite the frightful weather. Their kindness is just one of the many reasons why I offer them fresh vegetables from my garden each summer.

I was not dreaming of a white frigging Christmas. The last thing I wanted to be was snowbound thanks to Mother Nature, who took all of New England out for a walk this Monday.

Despite the shoveling and the biting cold, I have to admit the snow gave the holiday a special glow and a reason to get outside and breath that fresh Canadian air.

Forgive me for sounding like a cranky Mainer lamenting about winter’s wrath, but like Dr. Seuss said: “Adults are obsolete children.”

I am no different.

A photo warms the heart during a brutal winter

Print copy by Globe photographer Jim O'Brien
 Umpire Mike Caira listens politely as Revere coach Al Blasi dramatizes his claim that Arlington’s Ron Valeri was out trying to steal third base during yesterday’s game. Blasi lost the argument and Revere lost the game, 2-1. This copy of the photo appeared on the front page of the sports section of the Boston Evening Globe dated Thursday, April 27, 1978.

“It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.” 

                               
                                                                        ― John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent

AUBURN, Maine — Whenever I open the shades and peer through the window, blinding snow and howling winds obscure my vision of a disappearing landscape that lies beneath 100 inches of god damn snow.

I can’t speak for all New Englanders, but this has certainly been the winter of my discontent and February has been a complete whiteout. Weekly snowstorms drift in and I feel like I have been carpet bombed by Mother Nature.

Obscenities litter my white front lawn. A line of six-foot high hedges, which act as a barrier to outside world, are buried under seven feet of snow. Their branches protrude through the white powder, crying out for help. Trenches surround my home, making my yard look like the Battle of the Marne during World War I. I am expecting a sniper to take a shot at me as I burrow through snow to get to the oil pipe or the porch.

I feel like a freakin’ groundhog.

I have given up on shoveling my other driveway. The remains of a broken shovel rests against a wall on my deck in the freezing cold. It was good shovel that has become another casualty in the war against snow. I will miss it.

Old Man Winter has been merciless to this region of America. There has been talk that people on the West Coast are frustrated because the Northeast is hogging all the snow.

Really!

I have a few choice words for my fellow Americans in Washington and Oregon. So what’s stopping them from showing up in my neighborhood with huge dump trucks to haul away this white crap.

I don’t wear snowshoes and don’t enjoy trudging through six feet of snow. I remain huddled inside and have gone on a cleaning spree — again.

I have been going through my parents’ personal items since my father’s death last November. I feel like a ghoul as we divide up their belongings. I would do anything to avoid this grisly task.

My father would have despised this winter. He was the Revere High School baseball coach for 42 years. Spring and summer were his favorite seasons. Baseball was his thing and you can’t play America’s pastime in the snow. I can still hear him cuss with each shovel of snow. He hated the stuff.

My mother, who passed four years ago, kept all the clippings of his coaching career. This basket of hard copies from my past is a treasure trove to a son who was the team’s bat boy and had the opportunity to hang out with his dad on the diamond as a child.

As I sifted through the clips as another storm set down a new coat of — you guessed it — fresh snow, I discovered a copy of the photo and clipping that "Boston Globe" reporter Marvin Pave and I were hoping to find to run with a well-written feature story about my dad’s life that appeared last November in Boston’s largest daily. It was a remarkable tribute to a good man who gave a damn about the right things in life.

I pulled the front page of the "Boston Globe Evening’s" sports section dated Thursday, April 27, 1978 from the pile of clippings. My loving mother had saved the faded newspaper all these years.

Globe photographer Frank O’Brien took the photo of my father having words with an umpire during a Revere baseball game against the Arlington Spyponders. It was a banner photo of my dad coming to bat for his team.

The next day at Revere High School a couple of teachers called me into the history department’s room and pointed out the photo of my father. We all had a laugh. My father was amused and quite popular for a few days.

I have a print of the black-and-white photo. It was given to me by my sisters and apparently purchased by my mother nearly 36 years ago. These possessions have  become precious artifacts of my past.

Finding that photo of my father and the old sports front of the Boston Evening Globe made a winter’s gloomy day bearable to a son who still wishes he could spend one more hour on a baseball diamond with his father.

A reminder from winter

Snow provokes responses that reach right back to childhood.

Andy Goldsworthy

AUBURN, Maine — We have felt like the prisoners of Zenda for the past 14 hours as a blizzard sputtered in the Gulf of Maine and pummeled the Pine Tree State with more than two feet of snow in some areas.

We got tired of looking at each other. We eventually found something to do as the winds howled outside and the snow piled up.

We were inmates in our home and wondered if the warden ordered a lockdown because Mother Nature dished out a can of whoop ass to the good folks of Maine. The streets are deserted and remain impassable — unless you are driving bulldozer. Only a fool would take a chance at getting behind of the wheel of a car during this stubborn storm.

It is now 7 p.m. Eastern Standard Time and the snow is still whipping around thanks to 35-mile per hour winds that built tall drifts that resemble mountain range on my street.

The snow plows have made several passes and a few of the behemoths came to sudden stop when they hit a wall of snow.

Lucky New York City! The Big Apple was spared and weathermen are issuing mea culpas as I write, but the rest of New England took one in the kisser.

My stalwart son and I decided to brave the icy wind and grab a shovel to clear the walkway to the front door of our snow-white home.

Before we stepped outside, we pried open the door, which was barricaded by two feet of frigging snow. Stepping outside and into the wind felt like a fusillade of glass shards, giving us second thoughts, but the walkway couldn’t wait, especially if we wanted our a mail and the paper.

For nearly 30 minutes, we were like a pair of jackhammers whacking away at two feet of the white stuff. The cold reminded us that we belonged inside our toasty home.

The snow on the walkway was as tall as the Great Wall of China. I thought about a stick of dynamite to blast an opening to the street, but explosives would make everybody nervous.

But we were so close to a breakthrough that we kept shoveling until we made it to the street.

Today was a “potato, corn and shrimp chowder” day, which took the chill out of bones and triggered several boyhood memories.

Tall tales

For the past 14, hours, Anthony endured stories of the Blizzard of 1978 — a storm that knocked Boston and surrounding communities on its asses for two weeks.

Of course, this was the perfect time to bore my son with tall tales of a snowstorm that nearly snuffed out the Blasi family.

Despite his annoying looks, I reeled off snippets of the greatest storm in my lifetime. Thanks to the snow, there was no place for him to hide.

It was Feb. 6, and there was that quiet that is familiar to any coming New England storm. You know you are in harm’s way when everything goes silent and the skies slowly darken.

The blizzard plowed into the Massachusetts’ coastline late in the morning. I sat in my parents’ cozy cellar listening to a Boston AM station — WRKO. I soon switched to WBZ when the flakes started falling. At first, the weatherman called for 6 to 12 inches. Two hours later, the snow totals began to rise: 12 to 16; 18-24; 25-30 inches.

They weren’t wrong. The storm stalled off the coast and delivered snow that shut down the Greater Boston area. Cars and trucks were stopped in their tracks on Routes 128 and 1. People lived in their cars for hours before help came.

Thirty six hours later and there was over two feet of snow on the ground. My Uncle Tony could not leave his house and my grandmother’s home next door became impregnable thanks that to huge drifts that reached the rooftop of her home.

Our first priority was getting to my uncle’s home. It took four men and over an hour to get  to Uncle Tony’s front door. Mr. Martinetti — a big man with powerful arms — was like Big Bad John slinging iron in a coal mine.

I was an 18-year-old who shoveled for the eight hours that day, helping 17 relatives clear the snow from their driveways on McClure Street. For two weeks, Revere High School was shutdown because it became an emergency shelter. Loud U.S. Army Huey helicopters landed all over the city and a handful of tanks roamed the streets. Revere was now under martial law after Revere Beach became flooded during the height of the storm. It was intimidating to see an armed National Guard patrolling the main streets of Revere.

For an entire week, people were forced to walk every where. No vehicles were not allowed on the road. Bread and milk were scarce for a few days because of panicked people making food runs.

But everybody helped out despite the snow and cold.

Months later, when I began a small landscaping service to pay for college, I mowed lawns along Revere’s coastline that sweet summer. I soon discovered hardened star fish and other marine life being broken apart by my lawnmower. These were the yards that were flooded by the rising tide during the Blizzard of 1978.

Sometimes it takes a storm — and home-made chowder — to bring calm and allow us to look back those special moments of our past.

Trench warfare

"You don't raise heroes, you raise sons.  And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes."  

~Walter M. Schirra, Sr.

AUBURN, Maine — I am fortunate to have a strapping 16-year-old son who has a strong back and an admirable work ethic.

He didn't flinch when he picked up a shovel and took on Blizzard Nemo, which roared through the Northeast on Saturday. For a small fish from Disney, Nemo sure had a lot of bite, dropping over two feet of snow on most of New England. This bastard of Northeaster lived up to all the hype and buried Auburn over a period of 36 hours. Nemo rivaled the Blizzard of 1978 when Boston was shut down for weeks. 

They say snow is a poor man's fertilizer. Then I guess I am set for the upcoming growing season.

But there was no hemming and hawing from a young man who didn't mind helping his dad clear away two feet of snow from two driveways. He didn't demand money or an IPod for his services.

He did it for dear-old dad, and I was proud of him for the way he braved the elements in a storm with whiteout conditions.

Anthony is a responsible young man who went the distance for his father the day before the storm would intensify. He helped bring in a half a cord of wood so we could keep the home fires burning in the event of a power outage.

He jumped right into the fray with three neighbors who should be canonized for their help with their Tiger-tank snowblower. Dan Levesque's two sons, Ryan and Mark, are two rugged brothers who treat mountains of snow as a mere annoyance. Dan, the patriarch of this good family, is an amateur geologist who appreciates the Earth's natural artworks — rocks. His collection is something to be admired. He is a smart guy with a kind heart. God don't make 'em any better and that's a fact.

Dan and family can look forward to fresh vegetables this summer from the guy next door, and that would be me — the master gardener of Valley Street.

For two hours on a wind-whipped Saturday afternoon,  Anthony and I plowed through snowdrifts to get to the car and cleared away a five-foot drift blocking the back door to our deck.

What really unnerved father and son was a five-foot high, six-foot wide wall of snow blocking both driveways. It would take hours with two shovels, but Dan headed toward my house with his monster blower and made mince meat out of the two Great White Walls of China.

And when all of New England embraced the warm sun on Sunday, Anthony and I were back at it, borrowing through 25 inches of snow to make paths around the house. We cleared the rest of the deck and driveway as temperatures soared into the upper 30s, which is considered to be a heatwave at this time of year.

It was spectacular storm, but what was more impressive is my 16-year-old who gave his old man a helping hand without giving it a second thought.

Sign of things to come

"Among famous traitors of history one might mention the weather."

                                                                         Ilka Chase 


AUBURN, Maine - Mother Nature has some nerve!

It's the day before Halloween and Mother Earth has conjured up a rare autumn Nor'easter and aimed it directly at Merry Ole New England.

Thanks a bunch, ma'am!

I just cut the lawn on Wednesday and now I am shoveling on Sunday. Give me a break!

I know it is not personal, but couldn't this freak of nature have waited until at least December? Why panic New Englanders who were frantically clearing out their sheds to get at their entombed snowblowers.

Like Maine doesn't get enough snow!

Being on the receiving end of a Nor'easter is no fun and it is as annoying as seeing signs of Christmas in stores across the mall in early October.

So now it's lights out for the entire northeast as tree limbs and wires come tumbling down due to heavy wet snow. It is the kind of white stuff that triggers heart attacks, not to mention depression and anxiety. Thousands have lost power and their patience.

I am mad as hell and I am not going to take it anymore even though my anger is obviously misdirected, especially when Mother Nature always has the final say in these matters.

I know ski areas will be delighted out in the hinterlands with the early arrival of a blizzard that usually doesn't appear on Maine's radar until January, but for those of us who have a low tolerance for the flaky white stuff in Maine's huge metropolitan cities, this is just a damn nuisance.

For the past few days, weathermen have been predicting 5 to 10 inches of snow. I thought they were out of their minds and their computer models were sabotaged by terrorists. I didn't pay attention to them, putting all my money on Mother Nature to pull a fast one and foul up another weather report. It is October, not January, and suddenly these guys are talking about a Nor'easter and heavy snow.

Get real!

Unfortunately, meteorologists were right on the nose with this prediction in some areas of the nation. Today, Maine and the rest of the Northeast is draped in a blanket of snow stretching all the way to Maryland and Virginia. It's not funny.

Perhaps the apocalypse is upon us - although I doubt it.

I tore open the shudders and threw open the sash Sunday morning, and what to my wondering eyes should appear but heavy gooey snow and no tiny reindeer. I heard the sound of snowblowers off in the distance and shovels scraping the pavement as bewildered Mainers dug their way out of this mess.

I shook my head and reached for the coffee, because you can't talk to me without my first cup of coffee. I am hearing impaired until I down my first cup. The world could be ending, but that would have to wait until I have my first cup of black gold, with cream and sugar, of course.

But Auburn was spared, well sort of, after this fast-moving storm raced toward Canada. We received about three inches and it is melting as I write. In two days, central Maine will become one giant puddle as temperatures soar into the high 50s.

I am not sorry to see it disappear, knowing all too well Old Man Winter isn't done with us, yet.

Around the horn

FROZEN FALLS: Snow covers the rocks around the Androscoggin Falls.

AUBURN, Maine - If Congress decides to pull the plug on the federal government this Friday, I was hoping all senators and representatives would also go without a paycheck and give their constituents a respite from long-winded speeches and empty promises.

But I found out that the Keystone Cops (Congress) are deemed essential personnel and will still be cut a check each week.

The only good news about keeping our foolish and fearless leaders on the payroll is that it will prevent triggering sobbing episodes from Speaker of the House John Boehner, who could also shed tears during hilarious episodes of the "Three Stooges."

After four years of unemployment, an economy that continues to run on empty, and conflicts galore, which we can't keep our dirty paws off of, Congress will still get paid even though these guys have done will little to right this sinking ship.

If Boehner wants throw open the spigots, he should take a look at all the foreclosed homes, boarded-up businesses and the rising gas and food prices as the American middle class evaporates right in front of his water-filled eyes.

Now that is something cry about.

Here at home

Over the last two days, central Maine took another whooping from Mother Nature. Auburn received 12 inches of snow and the cold winds continue to howl and frustrate even the most hardy Mainers, who want to see Old Man Winter go away.

SNOWBOUND: Anthony lurks behind this mountain of snow.

For snowmobiliers and skiers, another blanket of snow is just what winter lovers ordered after nearly two weeks of sun and frigid temperatures.

For my son, it was an opportunity to job shadow members of the Lost Valley ski patrol team on Saturday after Old Man Winter laid down a fresh blanket of snow. Should he decide to pursue becoming a member of the ski team next season, he will have to take an EMT (Emergency Medical Training) this summer.

So far he is sold on the idea.

Happy trails to you

For the past two weeks, all was quiet in western Maine. That lull coaxed us into believing the walkways around the Androscoggin River were free of ice.

SNOWY OUTLOOK: Anthony checks out the winter scene.

But one look around and we discovered the a few days of warm weather and a stronger sun could not melt away the ice that covered the walkways.

The Androscoggin River walkway is about a mile around and then there is the falls, which is sort of like a mini Niagara Falls. The falls during the spring is something to behold. When the snow melts and April showers move in, the falls roar and can be quite impressive.

Before heading on the pedestrian trail, take a small hike up near the falls and stand on the platform and hear the roar of the falls and feel its fine mist

The walk will take you past Festival and Bonney parks where you will cross the river over a trestle bridge, which gives an eye-opening view of the river. After crossing, you can head over to Railroad Park and head back to the bridge that separates Lewiston and Auburn.

All we could do is admire the slow-running falls and we eventually walked back to the car and head to the gym.

And after the last snowstorm and an ice storm on deck for Monday, we will have to wait until the end of march to take a spin around the Androscoggin.

Dinosaur discovered

AUBURN, Maine - A large dinosaur skull that was discovered in a homeowner's backyard has left local authorities and archeologists scratching their heads over how it got there.

"This is one of the most exciting finds in the state of Maine," said Thomas McCoy, curator of the Johnson Museum in northern Maine. "I can only speculate how this behemoth emerged from the soil and under this guy's porch."

The ancient skull was found after a father and son were shoveling the driveway when they first noticed the giant bone protruding from the snow.

"I am simply baffled," said homeowner Johnny Dig-a-ditch-eo, who is also an amateur dinosaur hunter. "This is just freaking crazy to see a large dinosaur head underneath my porch. Can you believe it."

By Sunday afternoon, curious neighbors began surrounding the property to get a look at the bleached skull.

"Like, I can't believe this thing. It's like a giant monster," said Serena Augustas of Portland.

Augustas heard something about the unusual find on Facebook and just had to see it for herself.

Archeologist George Franco, of the National Institute of Old Bones, said he is trying to obtain permission from the homeowner to have the site excavated.

But Dig-a-Ditch-eo is not sure if he wants to part with the skull.

"Hey, I might start charging people who want to take a look at this thing. Times are tough and I could use the money," said the stunned homeowner, as a crowd continued to circle the find.

Are you serious? Aah, not really!

Obviously, this tongue-and-cheek news story is really about a father and son who had the time of their lives modeling a dinosaur out of snow, which continues to fall with no end in sight during this outlandish winter.

We didn't need video games or a television set to spend a Sunday afternoon together. All we required was a shovel and some serious imagination to create this monstrosity from the past.

The sun was out, temperatures reached the mid 40s, which is like beach weather after days of below-normal temperatures in the Pine Tree State, and the snow was like clay. To spend such a wonderful day inside messing with a computer or watching another pathetic television show is a travesty and a missed opportunity to spend time with my child.

I am a proud and attentive father who discovered long ago that children want the time of day and attention from their parents. A trip to Disney World would be a wonderful event for this cash-strapped family, but a 100-mile drive to Fort Knox and checking out 10- and 12-inch Civil-War era cannon is a better buy and an opportunity for this family of three to step back in the past and enjoy the Pine Tree's rich history.

Time is always of the essence when it comes to forging an unbreakable bond with your child.

Archie "Moonlight" Graham, the lovable character in "Field of Dreams," put it this way: 

"We don't recognize our most significant moments while they're happening. Back then I thought, Well, there'll be other days. I didn't realize that was the only day."

While there will be other days with my son, Sunday was the only day to bring that dinosaur to life.