I am not one to freak out about driving in a snowstorm.

As I get older, I'm finding that a lot of stuff that once seemed important really isn't worth the hassle when the snow is flying. Bars. Bands. Bands in bars. Rec league basketball games. All the stuff that used to get me out in the winter now takes a backseat to a seat on the couch.

I'd rather search for something to watch on TV than for my ice scraper, but I don't have anything close to the "snow-phobia" that surprisingly seems to grip a lot of people in these parts.

Many is the winter day when I scoff at fellow motorists for being overcautious and slowing me down on my appointed rounds.

Today was not one of those days.

Driving west from Downtown about an hour ago was a thrill ride worthy of an E-ticket at a major theme park. The snow was coming down heavy, wet and too fast for salt on the roads to have an impact. Cars crawled on the freeway and skidded sideways on the side streets.

Because the brakes on my vehicle are questionable on a good day, I had a couple harrowing instances where I was pumping the pedal for a half-block in order to avoid rear-ending an unsuspecting driver at a stoplight.

It's enough to make a guy reach for a shot of Hennigan's (Seinfeld reference) to calm the nerves.

After a commute that took 2½ times longer than usual, I discovered that there is something worse than driving in this weird April blizzard:

Removing wet, slushy snow from the driveway!