Monday, January 26, 2026. A snow day. I enjoy snow days. The past couple of days have seen a lot of snow and very cold temperatures. I went out on Saturday morning, and that was the last of it for me. I went to the supermarket and stocked up on whatever was left on the shelves. It was bitterly cold, but if you are dressed for it and have somewhere to go, it’s manageable.

Bill was in Philadelphia on Sunday, driving some plebes around. It was just cold for him, no snow. The snow came on Sunday. I stayed in and watched Bugonia. It was a weird movie, yet enjoyable. It was not as enjoyable as Pretty Things by Yorgos Lanthimos. Emma Stone was great as usual, and Jesse Plemons was very good too. He looks like me, and when he is seen riding a bicycle in the movie, his resemblance to me was unnerving.

Aiden Delbis played Plemons’ cousin, and he looked like my former roommate, Kevin, who passed away a few years ago. We could have easily played those parts, or at least been the stand-ins for the main actors.

By that time, the view from my window showed whiteout conditions. Initially, I could not see the World Trade Center. Then it got so thick that River Street and Garden Street, a block away, were totally obscured. We had enough food to get through whatever it was we were going through.

I watched Bugonia again last night with Bill, who was somewhat engrossed by what he was watching. The twist threw him for a loop. Now he’s content watching Star Trek, the one where they wind up in San Francisco in the eighties.

I went out for a walk this afternoon. Not that I was climbing the walls, I just wanted to see how it was outside, and in doing so, I went and picked up some cigars. Imran at the cigar store told me they were open, and throughout most of his day, he had about 5 or 6 customers. He was happy looking out the window of the cigar store and watching the snowfall, which was probably still a novelty to him since he is from India.

Last night, word was sent that the fruit stands in Manhattan were going to be closed today, which was good news to hear. Going around Hoboken this afternoon, I found that the majority of the sidewalks were shovelled, so that was comforting. 13 years ago, I remember walking down the street a day after a snowfall, and as I walked looking straight ahead, I next found myself on my back looking at the sky. I did not see the ice beneath my feet.

Nowadays, I am more cautious and will walk in the middle of the street if it’s safe enough to avoid falling on the ice again. Today, while on the sidewalks, I would stop and allow others to pass. Unless they were walking and looking at their phones. I suppose they can do both, walk and look at their phones, whereas I would rather not.

I look back on my childhood when a snow day was truly something magical. Sledding down Gunther Avenue was always fun, wiping out at the bottom of Gunther Avenue just before it went into Main Street. No one was ever injured during this time. If one were more adventurous you would go sledding down Wilson Street, which was steeper and more thrilling, occasionally flying in the air about 4 feet above the snow. It was never too wet, never too cold. It was always fun.

I also remembered something that wasn’t fun on a particular snow day. I was wandering around on the day off, snow everywhere, when I saw Michael Nicastro, Mike Nocito, and John Valainia, three bad boys in the area. They chased me, and I went to hop over the white picket fence next to our house.

I thought the snow would support me as I climbed over, but it did not and I wound up straddling the fence, the white picket ripping through my pants and slicing me open between my 12-year-old scrotum and inner thigh. Blood trailed in the snow as I made it inside to call my mother to tell her what happened.

It was a flesh wound and healed itself up in a day or two. It really could have been a lot worse.