How Eight New Yorkers Shovel Snow

You always wonder what involuntary noise you'd make when disaster strikes, and when I took a tumble walking through Prospect Park during Monday's blizzard, I surprised myself by really going "oof!" like a comic book character. (Well, the vowel was actually a little more guttural, like the French word "boeuf.") 

As someone who slipped on ice and crashed onto my right ass cheek and hand—which induced a minor medical scare where I was worried my pinky was numb from the fall and not the cold—I salute those who are actually making the effort to clear New York City's footpaths. We learned during the last snowstorm that, without attention, the once-cute snowfall is in danger of being rapidly compacted into a perilous, city-length sheet of ice.