Valley Winter Song

Listen while you read:  Fountains of Wayne

Hey, sweet Annie, don't take it so bad
You know the summer's coming soon
Though the Interstate is choking under salt and dirty sand
And it seems the sun is hiding from the moon

Your daddy told you when you were a girl
The kind of things that come to those who wait
So give it a rest, girl, take a deep breath, girl
And meet me at the Baystate tonight

And the snow is coming down on our New England town
And it's been falling all night long
What else is new? What could I do?
I wrote a valley winter song to play for you

And late December can drag a man down
You feel it deep in your gut
Short days and afternoons spent puttering around
In a dark house with the windows painted shut

Remember New York, staring outside
As reckless winter made its way
From Staten Island to the Upper West Side
Whiting out our streets along the way

And the snow is coming down on our New England town
And it's been falling all night long
What else is new? What could I do?
But sing this valley winter song I wrote for you

~  Chris Collingwood & Adam Schlesinger (for Fountains of Wayne)

I woke up to 50 degrees here in sunny South Florida, but there is no snow. Took the chill off by running the heat a little bit. My Northern friends have been posting pictures of the beautiful snowfall in my home state, so it seemed appropriate to post a song about that meteorological event that provokes so much love and hate. "Valley Winter Song" appears on Fountains of Wayne's third album, 2003's Welcome Interstate Managers.

It's as pretty a song as that first snowfall, isn't it? December snow is almost always welcome, as it provides the perfect landscape for the secular part of Christmas. I remember as a kid taking seriously that 1949 Gene Autry classic, "If It Doesn't Snow on Christmas," wondering if Santa's sleigh would indeed be able to navigate a snowless world. (Never mind that we knew his sleigh had flying capabilities, thanks to magical reindeer.)

Post Christmas, any snow event is met with a somewhat negative response, unless, of course, you are a skier or a kid (or teacher) hoping for a snow day. That silent and pristine beauty is quickly overtaken by the salt and dirty sand. By February, traditionally the snowiest month of the winter, one is marking off the days (thankfully, only 28 or 29) until March arrives with the promise of no more snow.

Ha! I can recall some of the craziest blizzards happening in the month of March! It can test one's mettle.

It is true that I have opted to live in a snowless environment during the winter, but the pictures my daughter sent of my Northern home in a snowy landscape have poked my heart. My memories of sitting fireside on a snowy evening, a mug of homemade soup cupped in my hands, have emerged in a  wave of nostalgia.

I'll get over it.