I keep telling my beautiful wife Lorraine; "You should have been a meteorologist." Why? Because she is addicted to the weather channel and multiplies every dire weather report by 10, at least. I call it a "coming to the end of the world reflex." On Dec. 6, Lorraine was absolutely correct.

Long Island received a one-two punch in the form of snow, sleet, ice and wind. Technically it was still autumn (Dec. 21st starts winter) but it hit very brutally on this lovely island.

Automobiles became useless and the housebound inhabitants were thankful for the foods in the pantry and the refrigerator. The radio and television were a comfort for the trapped homeowners, although I heard that some people with TV dishes could not get any reception. No cars moved other than those with snowplows on the front hoods. All was quiet - all was serene - all was in the hands of old Mother Nature.

Lorraine made about 200 phone calls checking on our children and friends. I walked about in stocking feet. Then we got the "magical phone call." It was a neighbor who was also housebound inviting us to a candlelight dinner at their house. It was only two blocks away but it could have been Antartica the way the winds and weather were blowing.

Lorraine accepted! Maggie and Marty Silver would open their garage at 6:45 p.m. Somehow we would get there! We packed a bottle of wine, a babka, and a flashlight and set forth into the blizzard.

The snow drifts were two feet high and the winds tried to knock you over. It was brutal. No cars, only snow plows were around. Actually it was kind of peaceful. Halfway there we started singing, "Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful and so let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."

On the way over we met Steve Hartnett who was operating a snowplow and he looked in amazement at this crazy senior couple in the middle of a blizzard, singing.

As we entered the warmth of the Silver home candles were glowing everywhere. It was so warm and cozy I looked for a bell-hop to check into this lovely hotel. We removed our ice-caked shoes and shook off the snow from our denims, had a glass of wine and sat down to a wonderful, delicious meal.

This is what friends and neighbors are all about. We sat, ate, drank, and talked in the glow of what seemed like 100 candles. "I love candles," said Maggie. The food (salad, soup and chicken with stuffing) was delicious. Prepared at a moment's notice but with elegance and good taste.

Marty and I retired to the den to watch the fights on HBO. Good fight and soon it was approaching 11 p.m. Everybody started yawning.

Lorraine and I re-entered our boots and snow-gear and kissed our hosts for their gracious hospitality and retraced our journey home. It was easier this time even though the weather had not abated. Again we sang, "If they give you lemons make lemonade." It was a truly memorable Saturday night!