With the temperature now in the 90s maybe it's a good time for a snowball story.
Maybe the best snowball shot I ever made was in the early '80s on West Grace Street. Rebby Sharp and I were across the street from the Biograph Theatre, ducked down behind some parked cars. It was after dark but I can't say how late it was. There was a snowfall underway and it was sticking. Rebby and I were battling some friends, who were in front of Don's Hot Nuts, next door to the cinema that I managed in those days.
Rebby and her band, the Orthotonics, used to practice sometimes in the theater's large auditorium during off-hours. Some fans of Rebby's music and art might not know it, but she was a decent athlete; she pitched for the Biograph's women's softball team had a pretty good throwing arm.
When some snowballs thumped off of Donald Cooper's peculiar bright green candy business storefront, he came out on his porch to command the snowball fighters to scram. As everyone associated with the Biograph knew Cooper to be an utter pest and the worst next-door neighbor in the world, Rebby and I had no need for a plan ... we knew what to do.
Rebby threw first. My throw left with dispatch a split second later. Both were superbly well put shots. When Cooper extended his hand to block Rebby's accurate incoming snowball it shattered to shower him. Then, my righteous throw hit him square in the face ... boom!
Cooper promptly quit defiant his stance and retired for the night.
-- Words and art by F.T. Rea
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