Remember Snow?
I sent out an e-mail with a PowerPoint attachment that was a slide show of snow pictures in Scandinavia. And added a lighthearted remark about forgetting what snow is. The reply I received did cause me to think about my own forgetfulness of snow.
Background; for those unfamiliar with me. I moved down south many years ago after college when I accepted a job installing, maintaining, and repairing mini-computer systems. While up north I experienced 22 years of snow and its joys(1) and hassles(2).
I too have not forgotten snow. We usually get a snowfall that remains on the ground more than part of a day about every two years. But I discovered, after thinking about the reply I received, that my memory is rather selective. What I remember about snow is the positive. At least unless I deliberately think about the 'dark side' of snow. I remember the picture of our snow covered cedar tree we used on a Christmas card. The beauty of the snow covering the backyard and woods and everything else (a roll of fence wire looks very different after a large snowfall). I forget the time I didn't make it up our driveway because of the glazed over partially melted snow that had frozen the night before. Or that I had to stay out of town that same night before because the roads had been closed(3). I forget the times that the power was out for a day or two.
A story to illustrate even further how much I've forgotten snow and the cold of winter that goes along with it much further north.
I probably hadn't been here (the south) more than two years. It was February - not quite short sleeve weather without a light coat - when I got a call from one of my dispatchers that there was an install that needed to be finished in Pittsburgh. As in Pennsylvania. And that my flight was leaving in less than an hour. Which was no big deal back then - no real security to worrying about delaying you and my apartment was just 10 minutes from the airport. What was a hassle was that my roommate (a local southerner) had just finished frying some pork chops for lunch to go along with the black-eyed peas that had been simmering for a good while. The problem was resolved by packing a pork chop in a quart jar(4) and filling the rest of the jar with the black-eyed peas. Carrying silverware (a full set - fork, knife, and spoon) on the plane was not a problem.
Anyway, I packed some clothes, grabbed the tool kit and jar of food, and was off to the airport. And since I was headed to another city grabbed my suit coat to wear over my short-sleeved dress shirt. Made it to the airport, got the tickets from the agent, boarded the plane with the jar of food, silverware, and tool kit. The baggage was checked. The important stuff was carried onto the plane(5). Fellow passengers were jealous when I started on the black-eyed peas and pork chop.
Once in Atlanta (even back then we had to fly through Atlanta to get almost anywhere) and heading towards my departure gate I started to get the feeling that something was wrong. Not horribly, nastily wrong, but just not quite right. Once I got to the boarding gate for the flight to Pittsburgh I finally realized what was not quite right. As I looked at my fellow passengers in their large warm coats with hoods, it dawned on my that this is February, and I'm headed north, where it's cold.
The employee who met me at the airport asked where my coat was. Had I packed it? Told him nope - the suit coat is all I have. I've had people look at me before like I was not quite right. This was the first time I got a 'you must be insane' look.
I did survive the trip. And that's when I came to the realization that I was a southerner. If not by birth, then by acclimation.
And thus my (I thought) innocent comment was warranted. At least from my point of view.
gS
(1) Large, lightly falling flakes that covered everything; beautifully coated trees and houses, material for creating snowmen and snowballs, etc.
(2) Accidents due to slippery roads (I was involved in one); snow plows, shoveling driveways and sidewalks, the nasty slush that resulted from salting the roads and car traffic.
(3) My state, like many southern states, does not have a fleet of snowplows. We have a few blades that can be attached to the front of regular dump trucks. But a large snowfall quickly overwhelms the snow clearing ability that is present.
(4) We used an empty mayonnaise jar so I wouldn’t have to worry about bringing it back. Can’t remember about the silverware - possibly that also got left along the way since what we had could in no way be considered matching sets.
(5) I tried to check the toolkit once. The result was not pretty. Afterwards the toolkit traveled on the plane with me. New clothes are easy to acquire; a new toolkit is not.
Background; for those unfamiliar with me. I moved down south many years ago after college when I accepted a job installing, maintaining, and repairing mini-computer systems. While up north I experienced 22 years of snow and its joys(1) and hassles(2).
I too have not forgotten snow. We usually get a snowfall that remains on the ground more than part of a day about every two years. But I discovered, after thinking about the reply I received, that my memory is rather selective. What I remember about snow is the positive. At least unless I deliberately think about the 'dark side' of snow. I remember the picture of our snow covered cedar tree we used on a Christmas card. The beauty of the snow covering the backyard and woods and everything else (a roll of fence wire looks very different after a large snowfall). I forget the time I didn't make it up our driveway because of the glazed over partially melted snow that had frozen the night before. Or that I had to stay out of town that same night before because the roads had been closed(3). I forget the times that the power was out for a day or two.
A story to illustrate even further how much I've forgotten snow and the cold of winter that goes along with it much further north.
I probably hadn't been here (the south) more than two years. It was February - not quite short sleeve weather without a light coat - when I got a call from one of my dispatchers that there was an install that needed to be finished in Pittsburgh. As in Pennsylvania. And that my flight was leaving in less than an hour. Which was no big deal back then - no real security to worrying about delaying you and my apartment was just 10 minutes from the airport. What was a hassle was that my roommate (a local southerner) had just finished frying some pork chops for lunch to go along with the black-eyed peas that had been simmering for a good while. The problem was resolved by packing a pork chop in a quart jar(4) and filling the rest of the jar with the black-eyed peas. Carrying silverware (a full set - fork, knife, and spoon) on the plane was not a problem.
Anyway, I packed some clothes, grabbed the tool kit and jar of food, and was off to the airport. And since I was headed to another city grabbed my suit coat to wear over my short-sleeved dress shirt. Made it to the airport, got the tickets from the agent, boarded the plane with the jar of food, silverware, and tool kit. The baggage was checked. The important stuff was carried onto the plane(5). Fellow passengers were jealous when I started on the black-eyed peas and pork chop.
Once in Atlanta (even back then we had to fly through Atlanta to get almost anywhere) and heading towards my departure gate I started to get the feeling that something was wrong. Not horribly, nastily wrong, but just not quite right. Once I got to the boarding gate for the flight to Pittsburgh I finally realized what was not quite right. As I looked at my fellow passengers in their large warm coats with hoods, it dawned on my that this is February, and I'm headed north, where it's cold.
The employee who met me at the airport asked where my coat was. Had I packed it? Told him nope - the suit coat is all I have. I've had people look at me before like I was not quite right. This was the first time I got a 'you must be insane' look.
I did survive the trip. And that's when I came to the realization that I was a southerner. If not by birth, then by acclimation.
And thus my (I thought) innocent comment was warranted. At least from my point of view.
gS
(1) Large, lightly falling flakes that covered everything; beautifully coated trees and houses, material for creating snowmen and snowballs, etc.
(2) Accidents due to slippery roads (I was involved in one); snow plows, shoveling driveways and sidewalks, the nasty slush that resulted from salting the roads and car traffic.
(3) My state, like many southern states, does not have a fleet of snowplows. We have a few blades that can be attached to the front of regular dump trucks. But a large snowfall quickly overwhelms the snow clearing ability that is present.
(4) We used an empty mayonnaise jar so I wouldn’t have to worry about bringing it back. Can’t remember about the silverware - possibly that also got left along the way since what we had could in no way be considered matching sets.
(5) I tried to check the toolkit once. The result was not pretty. Afterwards the toolkit traveled on the plane with me. New clothes are easy to acquire; a new toolkit is not.