179 - First Snow

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Thank you.

Please stop preventing it from happening.

I don't know how you got this power, but let it snow.

Let it snow.

Let it snow.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Well,

this is extraordinary.

Nightvale, I'm sure you've noticed what I've noticed.

I mean, who could miss an event like this?

First snow.

Not of the year, of...

ever.

This is the first snowfall in recorded Nightvale history.

Wow, look at it.

It's coming down in dense flurries.

I mean, this isn't some technical snowfall, a slight dusting and a, hey, look, I guess it sort of snowed.

No, this is a...

This is a blizzard, a real accumulation.

You know, it's funny how suddenly and starkly snow can change the landscape.

I mean, what was the ordinary street outside of your radio station is reframed, recontextualized by the weather.

Now it gleams a blinding white yet not yet muddied by our world.

This is snow at its purest when it still belongs to the sky before we tarnish it with our dirty boots and our oily cars.

All the children are running out of school to check out the snow and none of the school staff are stopping them.

The staff are too fascinated and Mr.

Lennox, the fifth grade teacher, bounds about the snow, barking and wagging his tail in joy.

The city council has declared it a snow day, which they explained is an old English phrase meaning a day where it snows.

The city council then ordered, it's a snow day, get back to work, return to your classes, it's a snow day, no reason to slack off.

What a beautiful moment, Nightvale.

I will, of course, keep an eye on the weather situation, but Why listen to me describe what you could be out there experiencing yourself?

Run out there!

Get in the snow!

Bring your radio, though, because, while I'd hate to think that none of you were listening.

In other good news, the big cleanup of Mission Grove Park has been completed way ahead of schedule.

As you know, the fall craft sale...

well,

well,

well, let's just say it got out of hand.

While the sheriff's secret police have successfully rounded up the last of the crocheters and suppressed the macrame uprising, the site of the event, event, Mission Grove Park, was left strewn with knitting needles and glitter, blackened by heavy artillery fire and covered in paper plates and plastic forks.

People, please, remember to throw away your trash after eating your food.

No one else should have to clean it up for you.

I think that's definitely the main takeaway from this whole affair.

But, fortunately, Leigh-Anne Hart and the Nightvale Daily Journal volunteered to sponsor the cleanup of the park, and she was as good as her word.

The cleanup was accomplished in remarkable time, and I can see no evidence of garbage or debris.

It looks like the good old park we all remember, except still with the scorch marks.

Not much that can be done about the scorch marks.

Oh well, hopefully, this unexpected snowfall will cover them up.

I think the grand reopening of Mission Grove Park will look stunning, draped in icy white.

And now an audio puzzle.

Today we have a word search.

Your letters are

M

C

H

O

H

L

O

Z

B

G

I

Q

O

F

W

E

N

V

N

Q

T

E

E

T

H

So please circle all the words you find and then swallow the paper.

If they catch you, you don't know nothing.

Nothing, you hear me?

This has been an audio puzzle.

Snowfall has continued over the general Night Vale area, and it is just a picture out there.

Madeleine LaFleur, head of the Night Vale Tourism Board, is already rushing out a new campaign of mailers and billboards.

The campaign slogan is, Night Vale.

It snows here now, I guess.

But with a cute little picture of a snowman melting in the intense heat of the desert.

Well, if this doesn't bring in visitors, I don't know what will.

This is the most convincing campaign that Madeline has run since Night Vale.

You might as well.

The City Council, frustrated by its inability to convince people to ignore the snow and get back to work, is instead leaning into it by organizing a special winter festival.

in the newly cleaned Mission Grove Park to celebrate this momentous day.

This is a day of carefree enjoyment, intoned the city council.

We always thought that.

We're glad that everyone agreed with what we thought about this day.

The winter festival will include sled rides, a snowball fight, and cross-country skiing lessons from Trish Hidge, who took a trip to Big Bear once.

She keeps insisting that her trip was in the summer and she's never even touched skis, but You know what?

We're just sure she's being modest.

Everyone is getting in on the festivities.

Some of the restaurants in town, such as Tourniquet, the Moonlight All-Night Diner, Gino's Italian Dining Experience and Bar and Grill, Big Rico's Pizza, and of course, Applebee's, will be setting up booths to sell some of their favorites in an Alfresco Winter Wonderland environment.

Martin McCaffrey will be selling caricatures.

The only caricature he knows how to do is Jimmy Carter as a peanut farmer, but it's a really funny one and he's happy to draw it for anyone who pays him $5.

The entire event is sponsored by Dunkin' Donuts, whom I've never heard of.

Well, I don't know.

Thank you, Mr.

Donuts.

Whoever you are.

And now a word from our sponsors.

Today's show is sponsored by Sharpie's brand Indelible Marker Pens.

Nothing is forever, you say.

My body isn't forever.

It will slump back down to the earth.

Memories of me aren't forever, for even the most famous famous human in history will be forgotten in eons.

Rocks aren't forever.

They are steadily ground down to sand.

Oceans aren't forever.

They will someday boil up into space.

This planet isn't forever.

It will fall into a hungry sun that is expanding in its death throes to take back all the matter it gave us.

The galaxy, it isn't forever.

It will someday collide with another galaxy, a cosmic accident on a scale our human minds cannot even begin to comprehend.

The universe isn't forever.

It will expand out to a heat death, or it will contract back into the microscopic dot that it all burst out from once upon a time.

Nothing is forever, you howl.

Tears stream down your face.

Nothing is forever, you whisper.

But Sharpie's brand indelible marker pens are forever.

How is that possible?

Don't ask stupid questions.

Sharpie's brand indelible marker pens, always and ever after.

This has been a word from our sponsors.

And now for our most frequent segment.

As I do every broadcast, let's once again dig into the mailbag.

I will do my best to give wise advice for this week's Hey there, Cecil.

Let's get to our first letter.

Hey there, Cecil.

I bought too many knives.

I don't know what a normal number of knives is, but I'm pretty sure this isn't it.

You may be picturing how many knives I have, but I promise you are thinking too small.

It's way more knives than that.

I can't even comfortably sit in my house without worrying about being stuck by a knife I had forgotten I had.

I don't even know why I wanted all these knives.

What should I do?

Sincerely, Knife Haver in Desert Creek.

Hey there, Knife Haver.

I hear you.

I feel like we've all reached a point in our lives where we looked around and we thought, wow, how did all these knives and swords and chainsaws get here?

Why did I buy all this stuff and why did I think it would make my life better?

Life is a gathering of clutter.

It accumulates like dust on a shelf and eventually it dissipates again.

Maybe because we die and it is passed on to the living, but mostly just thrown away.

Maybe because, like you, we realize we don't need all that stuff, and now we give as much of it away as we can.

The first step is the realization.

You have too many knives.

Good.

Now you can start the next step.

Getting rid of most of those knives.

I recommend driving to a remote part of Route 800 and just tossing them out your window.

Thanks for writing in.

Let's get to our next letter.

Hey there, Cecil.

I'm a little bit at a loss as to what to do next.

I graduated high school last year and I didn't bother applying to any colleges because I already had a good career going.

The specifics don't matter, but what I do is run a heavily armed teen militia that protects our town from outsiders.

Except I'm worried that this isn't actually the career I want for the long term, and now it feels too late to do anything else.

Maybe I should have applied to college or traveled abroad or something else.

But now I feel lost and I feel too young to be lost.

What should I do?

Sincerely, Book Lover in Old Town.

Hey there, Book Lover.

It's totally okay to feel a little lost at your age.

In fact, it would be a little unusual not to.

I mean, we are all in such a hurry to get to where we're going, to figure out who we are, to become, who we will become.

But all of that takes time, and there are no shortcuts.

You are waiting right now for your real life to begin.

And most of us go through a time like that.

Just know that almost everyone comes out the other end.

The waiting isn't forever.

Don't rush the rest of your life.

You have the whole rest of your life for that.

And finally.

Hey there, Cecil.

After a long time away, I've returned to Nightvale and I've been trying to re-establish my barbering business.

People are mostly pretty nice, but I feel a little insecure.

No.

I can't read any more of this.

I know who you are.

Vile!

Vile, Telly!

You will not get advice from me, not after what you did to my darling Carlos's hair!

No more letters today.

We are no longer giving out the mailing address, as we already have enough questions to give advice for the next several decades.

So if you're waiting to know what to do in a situation, just tough it out for a little bit.

We will get to you eventually.

Hopefully within your natural lifespan.

Oh man, it has been so hard sitting here in my booth watching the falling snow outside.

You know what?

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I just can't sit here while it happens.

I'll see you all at the Winter Festival.

Save me a hot apple cider and a sled ride.

While I go out into the first snowfall Nightfell has ever seen, snowed that all of us are out there together celebrating.

Let's find out what's going on with the weather.

Third Dream Crime Podcast of the Day.

Tales to keep your world at bay.

Horror movies to get your fix.

What makes you tick?

What makes you tick?

Walk the back streets.

Home tonight.

To feel that shiver down your spine.

Turn off your maps to get you lost.

Feel the fuss, feel the sad heartbreaks of dream.

Every day it's medicine,

suffrages, trepidation.

Motivate,

motivate.

For the safety of you,

to get all the things that hurt you.

Feed yourself, can clear your shoes.

I'm a fear,

I'm a fear.

Ghost stories around the fire.

Random attacks, I'm gonna fire.

You feel your nerves like club wire.

It brings you higher, it brings you higher.

Killing aliens and video games, ghost walks in town, learning the names of murderers who kill for fame.

Rattle, rattle, rattle.

A Ratterers

are out of sight dreaming.

Every day it's my soul.

Selfish

trap and shine.

My fear,

madam fear.

Far the safety of you.

See all the things that hold you.

Leave your soak and clean your shoes.

Right in fear,

murder fear.

I can't turn it back

behind

the door.

If I wanna call home,

You chose to hit play on this podcast today.

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I'm Amy Nicholson, the film critic for the LA Times.

And I'm Paul Scheer, an actor, writer, and director.

You might know me from the League Veef or my non-eligible for Academy Award role in Twisters.

We come together to host Unschooled, a podcast where we talk about good movies, critical hits, fan favorites, must-sees, and in case you missed them.

We're talking Parasite the Home Alone.

From Greece to the Dark Knight.

So if you love movies like we do, come along on our cinematic adventure.

Listen to Unschooled wherever you get your podcasts.

And don't forget to hit the follow button.

I am back, listeners, from the Winter Festival.

Well, what an unexpected turn of events that was.

We are all still reeling in shock.

I mean, it doesn't seem worthwhile to explain what happened after all the entire town was there and witness ourselves these strange and sad events.

But still, who am I if I am not telling a story?

My body is 90% story, 5% water, and 5% assorted.

It all started out so normal.

Well, normal for a day where it was snowing in the desert.

I rode a sled for the first time in my life, which wasn't as exciting as I wanted it to be.

The snow wasn't as slick as I had imagined, and the sled kept getting stuck even when Josh Creighton took the shape of a sled dog team so he could just pull some of the kids around.

Well, the snow was bitter tasting and not nearly as cold as I had hoped.

There is a gap, I suppose, between the dream and the reality, and the winter festival thrust us all into that disappointing gap.

Still, the whole community was there, and I suppose it could have just been a nice outing if my niece Janice hadn't noticed the source of the snow.

Hey, she said, pointing to the other side of the park, doesn't it look like the snow is going upwards over there?

And it did.

Confusingly, the snow seemed to be emanating from somewhere inside of Nightvale, only then drifting back down to the earth in this unprecedented weather event.

Gingerly, afraid of what kind of unruly god could have the ability to create a snowstorm, we crept as a community across the park, slushing each other and doing our best to walk on our tiptoes.

And in this way, we arrived at the vacant lot out back of the Ralphs, which is where we found Leanne Hart, standing next to a gigantic bonfire of trash.

She turned to see us staring.

What?

She said, moving a little as if to hide with her body the towering pyre.

And it seems that Leanne Hart had cleaned up the trash from Mission Grove Park by merely just shoveling it into a nearby vacant lot and then lighting it aflame.

There had been so much trash and the fire had grown so large that ash had started to drift over the surrounding area, and it was this, which we all had mistaken for snow.

It was only then that we noticed how much we were coughing, how much our eyes stung from the smoke, and what was falling from the sky did not resemble in any way, except shape and color, our understanding of snow.

Without speaking, we started to drift away.

A little embarrassed and a lot bit disappointed.

The magic of the day had been burned as surely as the trash that Leanne stood next to, continuing to shout, what?

What are you all staring at?

as we glumly dispersed to our homes and schools and workplaces.

And so here I am.

Today was not the first snow in Nightvale.

That is a shame.

But consider this.

That only means our first snow is yet to come.

Aw, think of how magical that might be.

Stay tuned next for a man trying most unsuccessfully to explain how oceans formed using only what he vaguely remembers from high school.

And until our first true snow, sometime in our glorious future.

Good night, Night Vale.

Good night.

Welcome to Night Vale is a production of Night Vale Presents.

It is written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Kraner and produced by Dispirition.

The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.

Original music by Dispirition.

All of it can be found at disparition.bandcamp.com.

This episode's weather was Modern Fear by Marble Season.

Find out more at marbleseason.bandcamp.com.

Comments, questions, email us at info at welcometonightvale.com or follow us on Twitter at nightvale radio or keep on trucking.

Good for you.

Check out welcometonightvale.com for info about our Patreon, which is how the people who make this show are able to pay our bills and eat food.

So thank you.

Today's Proverb.

10 years ago, on this very date, a very important person was born.

I don't know their name or anything about them, but sure, lots of people are born every day, and some of them end up important.

Hey, Jeffrey Kraner here to tell you about another show from me and my nightvale co-creator, Joseph Fink.

It's called Unlicensed, and it's an LA Noir-style mystery set in the outskirts of present-day Los Angeles.

Unlicensed follows two unlicensed private investigators whose small jobs looking into insurance claims and missing property are only the tip of a conspiracy iceberg.

There are already two seasons of Unlicensed for you to listen to now, with season three dropping on May 15th.

Unlicensed is available exclusively through Audible, free if you already have that subscription.

And if you don't, Audible has a trial membership.

And if I know you, and I do, you can binge all that mystery goodness in a short window.

And if you like it, if you liked Unlicensed, please, please rate and review each season.

Our ability to keep making this show is predicated on audience engagement.

So go check out Unlicensed, available now only at Audible.com.