Well, it’s winter up here in the Northeast. Or, should I say, “Up heeyah.”
We can tell because our skin hurts, our ears become numb in
nanoseconds, snot freezes instantly in our nostrils, and every finger has split
at a different joint at least once, flinging blood in any direction it so
pleases to fly.
Ah, winter.
The downside is that we are in a serious cold spell right
now. The other day we had wind-chill feel-like temperatures averaging -20
degrees. Going outside is physically painful and the heating bills are
quadrupling right now.
The upside, however, is that the cold air creates the perfect conditions for a Nor’easter. Monday and Tuesday it appears that the southwest regions will be sending us some moisture. This is fabulous news because it means that we are going to get snow.
That’s right: SNOW; the four-letter word that so many of you
detest.
This is where I am totally confused. Unless you live with
your parents and are underage, you are not forced to stay here. If you don’t
like snow, MOVE. I hate listening to the weather people, the newscasters, and a
large portion of the population north of the Mason-Dixon Line all bellyaching
about snow.
People! That’s what we do here. It’s why we live here. It
snows. It either falls softly and quietly
like it did last week, or it belts the shitolsky out of us and holws and
screeches and blasts the electricity to oblivion, in which case we may all
freeze to death because it’s so freaking cold out, but that’s the fun of the
gamble.
Every snow storm should come with Clint Eastwood aiming a
giant snow machine at us while he says through clenched teeth, “Do you feel
lucky, punks? Well? Do ya?”
I feel lucky. Bring it.
