Snow Job
Written by David M. Muench


New Yorkers should laugh at us. Pennsylvanians should guffaw. For those of you who have been besieged by more than a foot of snow during this winter, I apologize for the superfluous "snow reports" of Oklahoma's news stations.

Today, Northern Oklahoma received six, maybe seven inches of snow. Here in Central Oklahoma where I reside we almost got a whole two inches of the cold white stuff. Since the temperature remained above freezing the roads were mostly clear around my town. Regardless, school and church closings flashed on the screen as early as 9am this morning.

But what really irks me is that each local news station has a kajillion reporters out in different areas of the state, regaling the viewers of the massive amounts of snow and the treacherous highways.


"Reporting from Enid, Oklahoma, we have Staci. Staci, how is the traveling in your area?"

"It isn't too bad right now as traffic is moving along nicely. And hey look, we made a snowman. Back to you, Kelly."

"Thanks, Staci. That's a great looking snowman. She's been doing a great job being out there all day. And now we have Bob in El Reno. What's it like there, Bob?"

"Well Kelly, there's currently about an inch-and-a-half to two inches of snow on the ground here in El Reno. Travel doesn't seem to be hampered as the roadways are for the most part wet, but there are some slick spots. Back to you, Kelly."

"Thanks for that report, Bob. And now we have Ron in Kingfisher. What do you have for us, Ron?"

"Thank you, Kelly. Well as you can see the roads are mostly wet as the temperature hasn't dipped below the freezing mark. Traffic is moving along without any problems. There only seems to be about a couple of inches of snow on the ground. Back to you, Kelly."

"That was Ron in Kingfisher. Thanks Ron....."


Two inches of snow for the love of GOD! Does that warrant sending six reporters on location to different parts of the state? "Well hey, six inches of snow here, better declare a state of emergency! Break out the snow plows and close down the entire northern part of Oklahoma! Bring in the National Guard! Bring in the Red Cross! Call the President!"


Why can't you just call somebody living in El Reno, Enid, or Kingfisher?

"Hey, Fred, what's it like up there where you are?"

"Oh, we got a little snow on the ground. Nothin' big."

"How's the driving?"

"What, are you kiddin'? There's like six inches of snow out there. I'm not getting out in this stuff!"


Sometimes I think I should be a reporter. An edgy, no punches pulled, "Tell-It-Like-It-Is" kind of reporter.

"And now we have Shiny, reporting in Central Oklahoma. What do you have for us, Shiny?"

"Well Kelly, it's pathetic, really. There's maybe an inch-and-a-half of snow on the ground. But I'm just guessing, really, since I don't go around with a freakin' ruler in my freakin' pocket. People are driving around like maniacs, which tells me that the roads aren't bad. Or that they're just damned idiots. And since I have your attention, I would like to thank all of you for sending me out here to freeze my ass off in the cold just so I can tell you that we have almost two whole inches of snow on the damn ground. I want a raise. Back to you in the warm newsroom, Kelly."


So go ahead and laugh, New Englanders; chortle until your eyes water and stomach hurts. We deserve it.

Snow Job

Snow Job
Written by David M. Muench

New Yorkers should laugh at us. Pennsylvanians should guffaw. For those of you who have been besieged by more than a foot of snow during this winter, I apologize for the superfluous "snow reports" of Oklahoma's news stations.

Today, Northern Oklahoma received six, maybe seven inches of snow. Here in Central Oklahoma where I reside we almost got a whole two inches of the cold white stuff. Since the temperature remained above freezing the roads were mostly clear around my town. Regardless, school and church closings flashed on the screen as early as 9am this morning.

But what really irks me is that each local news station has a kajillion reporters out in different areas of the state, regaling the viewers of the massive amounts of snow and the treacherous highways.

"Reporting from Enid, Oklahoma, we have Staci. Staci, how is the traveling in your area?"

"It isn't too bad right now as traffic is moving along nicely. And hey look, we made a snowman. Back to you, Kelly."

"Thanks, Staci. That's a great looking snowman. She's been doing a great job being out there all day. And now we have Bob in El Reno. What's it like there, Bob?"

"Well Kelly, there's currently about an inch-and-a-half to two inches of snow on the ground here in El Reno. Travel doesn't seem to be hampered as the roadways are for the most part wet, but there are some slick spots. Back to you, Kelly."

"Thanks for that report, Bob. And now we have Ron in Kingfisher. What do you have for us, Ron?"

"Thank you, Kelly. Well as you can see the roads are mostly wet as the temperature hasn't dipped below the freezing mark. Traffic is moving along without any problems. There only seems to be about a couple of inches of snow on the ground. Back to you, Kelly."

"That was Ron in Kingfisher. Thanks Ron....."

Two inches of snow for the love of GOD! Does that warrant sending six reporters on location to different parts of the state? "Well hey, six inches of snow here, better declare a state of emergency! Break out the snow plows and close down the entire northern part of Oklahoma! Bring in the National Guard! Bring in the Red Cross! Call the President!"

Why can't you just call somebody living in El Reno, Enid, or Kingfisher?

"Hey, Fred, what's it like up there where you are?"

"Oh, we got a little snow on the ground. Nothin' big."

"How's the driving?"

"What, are you kiddin'? There's like six inches of snow out there. I'm not getting out in this stuff!"

Sometimes I think I should be a reporter. An edgy, no punches pulled, "Tell-It-Like-It-Is" kind of reporter.

"And now we have Shiny, reporting in Central Oklahoma. What do you have for us, Shiny?"

"Well Kelly, it's pathetic, really. There's maybe an inch-and-a-half of snow on the ground. But I'm just guessing, really, since I don't go around with a freakin' ruler in my freakin' pocket. People are driving around like maniacs, which tells me that the roads aren't bad. Or that they're just damned idiots. And since I have your attention, I would like to thank all of you for sending me out here to freeze my ass off in the cold just so I can tell you that we have almost two whole inches of snow on the damn ground. I want a raise. Back to you in the warm newsroom, Kelly."

So go ahead and laugh, New Englanders; chortle until your eyes water and stomach hurts. We deserve it.

Ushering In the Love
Written by David M. Muench


It was my first time actively participating in the union of two happy (terrified) people. I'm not talking about the traditional hauling wedding gifts to the designated Gift Mobile, or putting Oreos, toilet paper, shoe polish, and dead animals on the happy couple's car. I'm talking about the esteemed duty of the Usher.

I had only a vague knowledge regarding an usher's charge. Leading guests to the proper bride/groom sections of the pews and forcing them with a half-nelson and a headlock to sign the guest register while attempting to look reposed.

The wedding lady - who much to my dismay looked nothing like J. Lo - drilled me about my regal responsibilities.

"Have the guests sign the guest register and then lead them to their seat."

"Got it."

"Make sure that the family members get the first two pews, then friends fill in the third and so on."

"Okay."

"Wow, how easy is this?" I thought to myself. "Hey, sign that, and follow me." Piece of cake, right?

I failed on my first run, because I was completely unaware that I had to "escort" the female guests with the crook of my arm. I learned that when Miss J. Lo was explaining the responsibilities in detail to the other usher, a kid half my age and twice my height. I don't know why she neglected to fill me in on the whole "crook-of-the-arm" thing. Like it's some kind of dormant, intrinsic element embedded deep into the Male Psyche that awakens when a man hits his thirties. Riiight. Don't get me wrong, I'm a gentlemen, but I don't go grabbing strange women at weddings. They may get the wrong impression.

My second attempt was more successful as I properly "escorted" my brother-in-law's lovely daughter down to her seat. Although I guess you should subtract ten points as I bellowed, "Walk this way!" and proceeded to kick my knees up high as we walked.

If those duties weren't enough, we then had to direct people from the outside who were going into the wrong building. Never mind that it was a cloudy, blustery day with the wind chill dipping into the twenties.

"Yo, Einstein! That's the Reception Hall! Jog your ass over here!" I yelled in my mind to wayward guests as I graciously waved them in.

All-in-all it was a good time. I was finally able to seat myself and enjoy a beautiful wedding. My niece has never looked lovelier, the groom a handsome gentleman and I was quite the Dapper Dan with my black Perry Ellis suit, matching tie and handkerchief. And a good 35 pounds lighter. Nothing says "dapper" than a lot of lost weight.

I have earned my Usher wings now, and I am confident that I will be more than ready for the next big wedding.

God help me if it's mine.

Ushering In the Love

Ushering In the Love

Written by David M. Muench



It was my first time actively participating in the union of two happy (terrified) people. I'm not talking about the traditional hauling wedding gifts to the designated Gift Mobile, or putting Oreos, toilet paper, shoe polish, and dead animals on the happy couple's car. I'm talking about the esteemed duty of the Usher.

I had only a vague knowledge regarding an usher's charge. Leading guests to the proper bride/groom sections of the pews and forcing them with a half-nelson and a headlock to sign the guest register while attempting to look reposed.

The wedding lady - who much to my dismay looked nothing like J. Lo - drilled me about my regal responsibilities.

"Have the guests sign the guest register and then lead them to their seat."

"Got it."

"Make sure that the family members get the first two pews, then friends fill in the third and so on."

"Kay."

"Wow, how easy is this?" I thought to myself. "Hey, sign that, and follow me." Piece of cake, right?

I failed on my first run, because I was completely unaware that I had to "escort" the female guests with the crook of my arm. I learned that when Miss J. Lo was explaining the responsibilities in detail to the other usher, a kid half my age and twice my height. I don't know why she neglected to fill me in on the whole "crook-of-the-arm" thing. Like it's some kind of dormant, intrinsic element embedded deep into the Male Psyche that awakens when a man hits his thirties. Riiight. Don't get me wrong, I'm a gentlemen, but I don't go grabbing strange women at weddings. They may get the wrong impression.

My second attempt was more successful as I properly "escorted" my brother-in-law's lovely daughter down to her seat. Although I guess you should subtract ten points as I bellowed, "Walk this way!" and proceeded to kick my knees up high as we walked.

If those duties weren't enough, we then had to direct people from the outside who were going into the wrong building. Never mind that it was a cloudy, blustery day with the wind chill dipping into the twenties.

"Yo, Einstein! That's the Reception Hall! Jog your ass over here!" I yelled in my mind to wayward guests as I graciously waved them in.

All-in-all it was a good time. I was finally able to seat myself and enjoy a beautiful wedding. My niece has never looked lovelier, the groom a handsome gentleman and I was quite the Dapper Dan with my black Perry Ellis suit, matching tie and handkerchief. And a good 35 pounds lighter. Nothing says "dapper" than a lot of lost weight.

I have earned my Usher wings now, and I am confident that I will be more than ready for the next big wedding.

God help me if it's mine.