There aren't many in the Sooner State who will be dreaming of a white Christmas any time soon.

It's safe to say that Bing Crosby is no longer a favorite in Oklahoma.


There aren't many in the Sooner State who will be dreaming of a white Christmas any time soon.


When Crosby croons about a white Christmas, his dream includes beautiful white flurries that dust the ground with pearly powder.


I was in Oklahoma for Christmas this year. We had a white-out Christmas.


Snow was falling at a rate of several inches per hour. The wind howled out of the north as much as 60 mph. About a foot of snow covered an inch of frozen rain and sleet covered everything.


The entire interstate system in Oklahoma was closed - and those roads were in far better condition than the other highways and byways.


No one made it to family dinner. No plan went unchanged thanks to the dangerous drifts swept across roads, making passage almost impossible. Tragically several people lost their lives trying to travel on treacherous roads.


Our days were certainly not merry and bright.


None of the people stranded on highways for hours with kids in the back seat will be idealizing a yuletide snowstorm again. The people who camped out in Will Rogers World Airport for 48 hours while family traditions went on without them identified more with Elvis' Blue Christmas than Bing Crosby's white version.


Because when those blue snowflakes started falling, the blue memories started calling.


Neither my brother nor sister could make it to Chickasha for our scheduled celebration.


My nephew and his wife completely missed the Christmas celebration at my parents' home. They hit the road toward her family's home Christmas day when the roads had allegedly improved. That trip left them in a car for hours with a one-year old. They made it about halfway to her parents' house. They ended up spending the night in a Super 8 hotel after realizing they were not going to make it.


Their Christmas dinner consisted of a beef and bean burrito called "The Bomb" from a nearby Kwik Stop. God bless us, everyone.


The rest of us finally got most of our family together Saturday and my wife and I rapidly ate, unwrapped presents and hit the road. We made it to her family Christmas just in time to do the same thing there.


It certainly didn't go the way we planned it. But at those times, it seems, you always realize how good you have it even on your worst days.


I was snowbound with my mom's cooking for three days. Trust me, most people wish they had it that rough.


Overall, even though our plans were lost in the snow and our time together was limited, we salvaged what we could of the time we lost. But most of all we were reminded of the real reason we got together. Prayers for families who lost loved ones or who were truly stranded changed the focus off of our little problems and brought reality back to our romanticized version of Christmas Day.


Once all the planning and presents were moved down the priority list, everyone's focus moved to why we get together in the first place.


That was a good thing.


I was also reminded of how perspective changes everything on the trip back to Kansas Sunday.


We saw the snow as a huge inconvenience and Christmas killer.


But as I was eating at a fast food restaurant off the highway, two children were flying up and down snow mountains created by snowplows clearing the parking lots. The parents said the children - who see very little snow in south Texas - just hated to leave the winter wonderland where they had spent the holidays.


Maybe at 12 I would have felt the same way. My feelings about snow changed when I started paying my own car and insurance payments.


So don't expect me to dream of a white Christmas for 2010 or any other year for that matter.


Sunny and 60 sounds fine to me.


Kent Bush is publisher of the Augusta (Kan.) Gazette.