Thursday, February 6, 2014 —
I know some people may want to shoot me for saying this, but I wish we got more snow last week.
What the Weather Channel dubbed Winter Storm Leon roared out promises of 2-foot snowfalls, only to tiptoe past leaving a mangy 1-inch coat behind.
Not that I’m utterly disappointed. I still woke up early in the morning (which is as rare as a hedgehog in a hand basket) to stroll down silent and still-smooth streets.
I scooped some frozen fluffiness off my balcony to put together a breakfast of snow cream. I carefully compacted a half-foot snowman (or maybe snow-hobbit would be the better term).
After last year’s lack of winter weather, it was like a miracle. Like finding water in a desert, dry land while adrift at sea, (or maybe Velveeta cheese in the grocery store nowadays).
But dreams of what could have been still taunt me.
My colleagues who grew up in colder climates were just as upset, but for different reasons.
They didn’t want to see any snow at all.
One went so far as to tell me he was sick at the sight of it.
I guess I can’t blame them. Too much of a good thing, as the saying goes.
I’m sure they at least got a good laugh at the rest of us going googly-eyed over precipitation that just happens to be frozen and gripping our steering wheels in terror.
And I guess I could rant and rave about how these snow-hardy folk just don’t understand. How nobody around here is prepared for snow, nobody around here knows how to drive in the snow, walk in the snow, deal with the snow. (Hey! We’re not wimps, we’re realists!)
But the truth is, I don’t have room to talk.
I’ve had my fair share of chuckles over people freaking out about weather I consider normal, too.
Growing up on the coast, it was always hurricanes.
One time we had this superintendent, new guy from up north, and the first time we had a tropical storm watch under his stewardship (watch not warning, mind you; I think the eye was supposed to hit as far south as Georgia), he canceled everything. Classes, sports, meetings, the works.
Turned out to be the most beautiful day you’ve ever seen. Balmy weather, steady breeze. My sister and I went out in our kayaks to ride the waves.
I think the whole county had a good laugh over that one.
And, yes, I know hurricanes can be very serious (like snow storms), but the most of the time (like snow storms) you get a glancing blow and it’s not that bad.
The minute-by-minute coverage of what turns out to be no more than a good downpour is just as flabbergasting to me as the drama around a snow dusting would be to my more snow-hardy friends.
So you see, I can’t really scold them without scolding myself. And I don’t think I really want to.
Because honestly, that’s half the fun.
The way you react to weather is a bit like your favorite sports team or the way you say Albemarle; it’s says a little bit about who you are.
I know talking about the weather is generally looked at as superfluous, but honestly it’s as good a way to get to know a person as asking where they grew up.
I’ve heard more stories about my colleagues’ childhood this past week than I have since Christmas.
God bless the weather, I think it gives us a chance to open up.
Besides, freaking out over snow wouldn’t be half as fun if I didn’t have someone to roll their eyes at me.
What is fun but looking like a fool in someone’s eyes? We’re like kids with a noisy toy. We make a racket just to watch their reaction.
So laugh away my snow-skilled folk. You make me happy, too.
I’m still dreaming about (and drooling over) the chance of frozen precipitation.
To submit story ideas, contact Shannon Beamon at (704) 982-2121 ext. 24 or at email@example.com.