I am not a snow freak. Not a skier or a dogsledder. But when the calendar says winter, I want at least one big nasty ol' nor'easter to validate the season. Then I don't care if it doesn't snow for the rest of the winter.<br><br>I admit, though, that I miss the testosterone rush I used to get behind my big-@ss 6-speed, 36" Toro snowblower. Our house near Boston had a pretty big driveway, and after two New England winters of constant shoveling (it seemed like every Tuesday and Saturday, from December to March, we got another 10"), I decided enough was enough, and bought the beast. I had the only blower on the cul-de-sac, and I loved watching my neighbors' faces as they busted their butts shoveling, or shoveled out their cash to the private snowplow guys, while I strolled liesurley behind my rumbling companion.