No, I've never been in a war zone…

…but I do have a brain and some imagination.

All that, along with a smidgen of historical knowledge, tells me the Toronto ice storm really didn't resemble a war zone at all, as many media outlets portrayed it.

In the Town Crier headline the words "war zone" are part of a direct quote from one of the many war-torn residents of Leaside.

The guy who chose these ominous words went on to say, "I came out to get some food and coffee…and literally could not drive out of our neighbourhood…so I…set out on foot".

Presumably, this man is now what we call (in war talk) a foot soldier. Skilfully using his feet to get to the fresh bread store, antibiotic-free probiotic meat store and the bank, where he keeps his military pay.

My God, man, did you make it safely to the Starbucks? Were they able to heat the soy milk in your latte so as to make biscotti-dipping more pleasant?

I trust, hard-done-by resident, you avoided all the mass graves, unexploded shells and death squads roaming the tree-lined streets that is so common after a big storm.

Granted, many of these lovely tress lost branches - big ones. One detail that popped out for me when I watched a documentary on the German invasion of Russia was how many nice trees were lost amidst the 20 million dead people and razed buildings.

No people left to replant trees. Shame.

I'm sure the first thing the Iraqi's were miffed about when George "Mission Accomplished" Bush sent actual exploding missiles flying was losing cable t.v. and Internet. So, naturally, we Torontonians know what that's like. I think the average person can easily mistake a falling branch for a 2,000 pound shell that eviscerates your Starbucks and everyone in it. Sorry, the biscotti was over-cooked today.

I'd be comfortable with words like "eerie", "gloomy", "bizarre", "spooky", and "annoying" to describe the storm of the century.

Anything about war never really occurred to me. But these days everything is a war - obesity, drugs, racism, sexism…and now the weather has declared war on Leaside.

The good thing about real wars is that the army is already there to clean up, even though they are cleaning up dead bodies and flattened cities.

In Toronto we have to debate whether we want the army to come in and then we have to ask Mr. Harper nicely. And the Canadian army, as we all know, is far more skilled at picking up branches than any tree company or, let's say, you and me are.

I'm glad I don't have to suffer through the war ravages of having to pick up branches and put them in a neat pile.

When, oh when, will we negotiate peace with the weather?