The temperature rose to a balmy 38 degrees yesterday afternoon melting some of the snow. Now, in the wee small hours of the morning the wet streets had been transformed into sheets of ice as temperatures plummeted well below freezing during the night.

Thankfully, I had requested a taxi to drive me the 38 miles to the airport.

The driver greeted me with, "Boy is it ever treacherous out there."

I tried to reassure myself as I buckled up in the back seat, "I'm glad I'm leaving the driving to you. I'm sure with a professional driver everything will be okay."

"You never can tell," he said "this is the worst ice I've seen in 5 years. It's treacherous. Pretty dangerous out here this morning. You never know when you might skid into a semi and die."

On that optimistic note I tightened my seat belt. "Take your time. It is more important that we are safe."

In addition to my driver's optimistic outlook, it turned out he has a temper. He kept yelling at the other drivers on the road, signaling them with a one-finger salute. He seemed to be the "Before" poster child for Anger Management Training.

One hour later, I am at the airport. Grateful we made the trip safely, only slipping and sliding a few times. My driver is on his way taking his rage with him.

Happily sipping on a Diet Coke as I await my plane. I confess I am beginning to think this day has the earmarks of caution on it.

Waiting in the concourse to board the same plane to Boston is a celebrity, a writer, Stephen King.

I am hoping his stories aren't born out of personal experience. If they are, I hope this flight in no way becomes fodder for his next scary novel.