In Chicago, Minneapolis and Boston - big cities with big airports - they must be laughing into their Christmas stockings - unless of course they had holidays booked in Ye Olde Europe.
In Chicago, the Windy City, they need at least a few feet of snow before they start cancelling flights. In fact snow doesn't tend to be a problem because O'Hare International Airport, one of the world's biggest, has plenty of other reasons all year round to dish up delays: from tornados to monsoon-like rains to soupy fog.
But that's beside the point. America does snow well. Britain is floored by a few inches. But so are France, Germany and Belgium, it turns out. I thought they had snow licked. Even the kids aren't happy anymore. They are off school anyway. And Father Christmas is stuck on the M4 with an overturned sleigh, spilled presents and some grumpy elves who are due to miss their return flight to the North Pole.
Brits normally love this kind of weather. In the country of light but near-permanent drizzle a snow storm is like a vodka slammer after a life of Bud Light. It is life-affirming. It brings out the worst in Mother Nature and the best in Human Nature. But, after a year of stiff upper lips and tightened belts, the island-dwellers were hoping for an easy ride over the holidays, not a camping expedition at a railway or airport terminal, armed with presents that seemed to get more cumbersome by the hour and clothes that could probably walk to their destination if liberated from their smelly bodies.
The Freis are staying put in the District of Columbia, hunkering down in front of the hearth, unwilling to pay a king's ransom for a flight anywhere (why are airline tickets so expensive this year?) and now feeling a little smug about our voluntary immobility.
Let's face it - travel itself has stopped being fun. First the involuntary striptease, courtesy of any number of terror alerts, and now this.
So, if you have an iPad or a laptop with WiFi access and you are living like a snowfugee at Heathrow, Frankfurt or Charles de Gaulle, cursing the great outdoors, dreaming of the homely indoors and close to tears I offer you this clip from YouTube as a pre-Xmas tonic.