Chronicle of a snowstorm foretold

I first heard of this weekend's snowstorm last weekend. It somewhere up in the Gulf of Alaska east of the Bering Strait bearing down on the Lower 48. All week long it shared media minutes with Anna Nicole and Britney. It took it's time sliding down the West Coast before hanglng a left over LA, then pulling out up over Vegas and the Rockies before stretching out its squalls on the Great Plains of North America. Meterologists place bets on their computer models, cover their backsides with take-your-pick forecasts. Larry's parking lot packed with the SUVs of Coke and Dorito hoarders yesterday stocking up for a weekend of cocooning, the check out girls sick of talking about the weather. Friday night prime time news live from the city snow plow garage where both man and machine get juiced for battle. It's been great windmill weather. It's not a raging blizzard, just an early spring Great Plains hurricane dropping frozen raindrops from Houston on 56572. The plow guys are out there alone having fun, the snowmobiles are in the garage warming up, the rest of us are snug, looking at our radar screens, once in awhile out the window at the beauty of it all. What's that I hear....a church cancellation?