Do you ever wonder what happens to the drivers of those cars abandoned in snowstorms?

This is sort of a seasonal topic, and I don't know why I'm thinking of it right now. But I am, and I thought there was probably a good chance this thought had crossed your minds, too.

Why do they stop in the first place? After miles of crouching to see the sliver of road visible through their frosty windshield, do they suddenly pull over and say, "Oh fuck it! This is just too hard."

And then what?

Do they just stumble out into the blinding snowstorm and die? And if so, why do we never hear about it in the spring, when their grizzly remains rise up from the departing snow?

Do they call a relative or friend to come get them? Just how inconsiderate is that? "Listen, I can't drive in this stuff. The conditions are the worst I've ever seen them. Cars are spinning out all over the place. It's dangerous as all get out. I've never been so terrified to be behind the wheel of a car in all my life.

"Will you come get me?"

Does the woman's boyfriend - or, so I don't appear sexist, guy's mother - really relish the idea of driving in it anymore than you did? So you've put your own life at risk. Now you want to endanger two of you?

So if they don't do that, maybe they call 911. Maybe the State Patrol spends all its time during snow storms picking up hapless drivers and shuttling them to cozy hotel lobbies. Somehow, I don't think that's true. I think the troopers have other things to attend to during weather disasters.

I don't just wonder nasty, belittling things about these drivers - although I have to admit, if it's an old, rusted-out heap of junk, I immediately believe whatever happened to them was their own fault. I know this is uncharitable, but it's a flaw in my otherwise lily-white character I can't seem to control.

For God's sake, I think, you ran out of gas! If you'd put part of the cash you waste on cigarettes into some good snow tires, you wouldn't be sitting there, would you? How could you possible think a Yugo would make it over a mountain pass in January??

Whereas, if it's a modest car, my heart bleeds for their unknown tragedy.

Oh my God, did you run out of gas? Did you go into labor? Did some low-life in a Yugo abscond with your brand new snow tires?

Four-wheel drive SUV abandonees get less sympathy from me as well. This was the guy - or someone very like him - who nearly drove me off the road when he passed me six miles back. So what if I was in his lane - I couldn't see through the one-inch frost-free zone of my windshield. Now karma has caught up to him. (Of course it's a him; a woman would never drive so aggressively - unless she's PMSing, and then she has every right to take her intensely personal pain out on other drivers.)

Sometimes, you see these cars sitting in the same spot for days. This baffles me even more than the initial abandonment.

Perhaps they were hen-pecked men who'd been considering vanishing from their domestic hell for years. The snowstorm, they realized, was their only opportunity to make a break for it. After all, they'd have at least until spring before their wives even realized they weren't actually dead.

Or did the car just perform so pitifully in the storm that the owner walked away in disgust, throwing his keys into the snow and never looking back.

Again, unless PMSing, a woman who never do either of the above.

Someone should do a story on the whole thing. Maybe I'll put a bug in the ear of my one remaining journalist friend. It'd be easy enough - match the plate to the owner and call them, ask them why on earth they abandoned their car - or ask their families what they believe happened to the loved one who drove off into a snowy night, and never returned. You could do a chart showing how many left spouses, how many called mommy, and how many simply could not find the defroster button.

Iraq and Jon Benet could take a back seat for just a day so this Average Joe question finally could be answered.

You'd read it. Wouldn't you?