I love these slices of America that feel vintage, as if some spirit has been preserved. Before buildings and downtowns get makeovers, before small ranch houses get torn down and replaced by luxury condos, before Mom and Pop shops give way to malls and other developments. It feels nice to run into something original. Even if it’s as simple as ice cream on a Saturday night.

I grew up in a small town, and Dairy Queen was really the only food establishment we had. This explains why I continue to have more affection for Dairy Queen, even in my adult life, than the average person. Dilly Bars, dipped cones, Peanut Buster Parfaits, and, of course, Blizzards. One of my favorite lines (yes, authors have favorite lines) in my most recent book is when I say that employees will work harder if companies install a Dairy Queen Blizzard machine in the break room. I was kidding, but only kind of.

I should probably be doing more to prepare for this blizzard than listen to the 80’s Hits radio station and fold laundry. But clean underwear should be near the top of anyone’s snowed-in list. And I stand by that.