hen you grow up in a place like Minnesota and you actually have to deal with real winter weather for 29 yrs, and you move to a place like Atlanta, GA where the weather is generally incredible except in the summer when it's hot[but weather is SUPPOSED to be hot in the summertime, and it's more fun to sunbathe and swim when it's a little too hot anyway]to hopefully escape terribly traumatizing elements like snow and ice, I guess you'll just have to forgive my lack of enthusiasm. It's not that I want to ruin the fun, or dash your dreams of what it must be like to live in a place where it "snows like this all winter". It's just that I know better, and you don't. You don't understand that the snow is pretty when it falls, but in a half hour or so that pretty white snow is gonna look more like a root-beer slushy. You don't understand about cold that pulls you out of your house at 5 o'clock in the morning to go start your car so it can warm up, while you scrape and brush the inch-thick layer of the devil's breath off of your windows and headlights. Or, about slipping on the skating rink beneath your feet while doing so, resulting in a cracked tailbone and wounded pride. You don't know about loading out from a gig in Stillwater down near the river in the middle of February with a 15 below zero windchill blowing straight into your face no matter which way you turn. And shovelling. You don't know about shovelling. You don't know about the snowblower that gave out last year, and that you should've replaced but didn't want to because your brain had no problem coming up with a cooler way to spend $1200, only to suddenly remember this year while walking out to the driveway in the middle of a storm system that has promised to dump another six inches on top of the five that already exist, that you made that dumb decision and now will suffer the consequences along with your newfound best friend Mr. Shovel. You don't have any idea about the backache waiting for you once you've finished. Or should I say, once you THINK you have finished, because I can virtually guarantee that when you've ridded your beautiful blacktop of the evil white slop, the big bad snowplow will come down your street and fill the end of your driveway back up with what used to be your neighbors problem. Georgia, all you know of snow is that when the weatherman says it's coming, it's time for you to drive to the store like an idiot at 4 and a half miles per hour to buy milk, bread, and pallets of water just in case[God forbid]you are trapped in your house for two hours while the "pretty" snow melts. You don't know how good you have it, you don't appreciate the mild warmth that blesses your skin and blows through your always-stylish hair for the lions share of the year. You just wonder sweetly and innocently in your honey-touched native tongue if you'll "get to see snow!!!"this winter. Lucky for you, you've never really known what winter is and Georgia, for your beautiful and naive' sake, I pray you never do. TS, out
Monday, March 2, 2009
If I Never See Snow Again.........
Snow. We had snow yesterday, in Atlanta Georgia. It was in fact, beautiful snow. Giant, white, glistening crystals of awe-inspiring uniqueness falling slow and fat to the ground. Everybody was bustling about, remarking in excited tones about the majesty of frozen precipitation. Everyone, but ME. For I am from MINNESOTA. I have seen more snow, and felt more cold and wind and ice than any human being should ever be allowed. I believe, actually, that winter weather should be made illegal. I am going to write a letter to President Obama[that was just the first time I've ever written President Obama, and it seemed weird. What a strange name for the President.....anyway...]asking him if there is some way to make snow and ice illegal. Or maybe figure out a way to tax it[but, only if it works really hard and is successful]. Now, I understand the whole thing about a blanket of snow on a hillside at Christmas time being magical and all of that crap, but let's get real Georgia. Snow is beautiful when it melts within an hour and you can go back about your business knowing that this freak cold snap will be over in a few days when the temps head back up towards 70 degrees for the upcoming weekend. Snow is beautiful on a postcard picture, or in the movies. However, w
hen you grow up in a place like Minnesota and you actually have to deal with real winter weather for 29 yrs, and you move to a place like Atlanta, GA where the weather is generally incredible except in the summer when it's hot[but weather is SUPPOSED to be hot in the summertime, and it's more fun to sunbathe and swim when it's a little too hot anyway]to hopefully escape terribly traumatizing elements like snow and ice, I guess you'll just have to forgive my lack of enthusiasm. It's not that I want to ruin the fun, or dash your dreams of what it must be like to live in a place where it "snows like this all winter". It's just that I know better, and you don't. You don't understand that the snow is pretty when it falls, but in a half hour or so that pretty white snow is gonna look more like a root-beer slushy. You don't understand about cold that pulls you out of your house at 5 o'clock in the morning to go start your car so it can warm up, while you scrape and brush the inch-thick layer of the devil's breath off of your windows and headlights. Or, about slipping on the skating rink beneath your feet while doing so, resulting in a cracked tailbone and wounded pride. You don't know about loading out from a gig in Stillwater down near the river in the middle of February with a 15 below zero windchill blowing straight into your face no matter which way you turn. And shovelling. You don't know about shovelling. You don't know about the snowblower that gave out last year, and that you should've replaced but didn't want to because your brain had no problem coming up with a cooler way to spend $1200, only to suddenly remember this year while walking out to the driveway in the middle of a storm system that has promised to dump another six inches on top of the five that already exist, that you made that dumb decision and now will suffer the consequences along with your newfound best friend Mr. Shovel. You don't have any idea about the backache waiting for you once you've finished. Or should I say, once you THINK you have finished, because I can virtually guarantee that when you've ridded your beautiful blacktop of the evil white slop, the big bad snowplow will come down your street and fill the end of your driveway back up with what used to be your neighbors problem. Georgia, all you know of snow is that when the weatherman says it's coming, it's time for you to drive to the store like an idiot at 4 and a half miles per hour to buy milk, bread, and pallets of water just in case[God forbid]you are trapped in your house for two hours while the "pretty" snow melts. You don't know how good you have it, you don't appreciate the mild warmth that blesses your skin and blows through your always-stylish hair for the lions share of the year. You just wonder sweetly and innocently in your honey-touched native tongue if you'll "get to see snow!!!"this winter. Lucky for you, you've never really known what winter is and Georgia, for your beautiful and naive' sake, I pray you never do. TS, out
hen you grow up in a place like Minnesota and you actually have to deal with real winter weather for 29 yrs, and you move to a place like Atlanta, GA where the weather is generally incredible except in the summer when it's hot[but weather is SUPPOSED to be hot in the summertime, and it's more fun to sunbathe and swim when it's a little too hot anyway]to hopefully escape terribly traumatizing elements like snow and ice, I guess you'll just have to forgive my lack of enthusiasm. It's not that I want to ruin the fun, or dash your dreams of what it must be like to live in a place where it "snows like this all winter". It's just that I know better, and you don't. You don't understand that the snow is pretty when it falls, but in a half hour or so that pretty white snow is gonna look more like a root-beer slushy. You don't understand about cold that pulls you out of your house at 5 o'clock in the morning to go start your car so it can warm up, while you scrape and brush the inch-thick layer of the devil's breath off of your windows and headlights. Or, about slipping on the skating rink beneath your feet while doing so, resulting in a cracked tailbone and wounded pride. You don't know about loading out from a gig in Stillwater down near the river in the middle of February with a 15 below zero windchill blowing straight into your face no matter which way you turn. And shovelling. You don't know about shovelling. You don't know about the snowblower that gave out last year, and that you should've replaced but didn't want to because your brain had no problem coming up with a cooler way to spend $1200, only to suddenly remember this year while walking out to the driveway in the middle of a storm system that has promised to dump another six inches on top of the five that already exist, that you made that dumb decision and now will suffer the consequences along with your newfound best friend Mr. Shovel. You don't have any idea about the backache waiting for you once you've finished. Or should I say, once you THINK you have finished, because I can virtually guarantee that when you've ridded your beautiful blacktop of the evil white slop, the big bad snowplow will come down your street and fill the end of your driveway back up with what used to be your neighbors problem. Georgia, all you know of snow is that when the weatherman says it's coming, it's time for you to drive to the store like an idiot at 4 and a half miles per hour to buy milk, bread, and pallets of water just in case[God forbid]you are trapped in your house for two hours while the "pretty" snow melts. You don't know how good you have it, you don't appreciate the mild warmth that blesses your skin and blows through your always-stylish hair for the lions share of the year. You just wonder sweetly and innocently in your honey-touched native tongue if you'll "get to see snow!!!"this winter. Lucky for you, you've never really known what winter is and Georgia, for your beautiful and naive' sake, I pray you never do. TS, out
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