The roads are covered with snow, leaving only tire tracks visible in some areas. Strong winds have produced snow drifts that cover roadways, especially in open areas. Plows and salt trucks struggle to keep up but the effectiveness of salt is greatly reduced once temperatures drop below 10 degrees Fahrenheit.

And regardless of how fast I’m driving, there is inevitably going to be someone who insists on flying past me like I’m standing still. (After a short period of impatient tailgating, of course.)

I say go ahead. Pass me. I really don’t give a #%@&.

Clearly, you have somewhere to be that’s extremely important -- a pressing engagement that is definitely more important than your safety and mine. And by the way, I snicker at you four miles down the road I pull up behind you at a red light. Congratulations, you got there first. Yes, you’ll go through the intersection before I will. There should be a trophy for that.

Or have you ever been passed by a car only to see that same vehicle in the ditch a few miles later? I’m a horrible person because I laugh at that. Or maybe you do too and you can reassure me that I’m not a bad person? Or maybe we’re just horrible people. I guess I can live with that.

Every year inclement weather reminds me of the year when my sons were learning to drive. Nick was behind the wheel after a pretty significant Michigan snowstorm. The conversation went something like this:

Slow down. I know.

Slow down. I know.

Slow down. I know.

At the tender age of 15, he had everything under control. Until he didn’t. We hit a patch of ice and began to spin out of control. I don’t know how he did it, but somehow he got the car back under control. We crawled the rest of the way home. I didn’t say a thing.

So good luck out there. Drive carefully and pass me if you must. Let me know if I should call you a tow truck.