Winter Survival Tips, A PAMPHLET
For those who are not aware, here in the Northern Hemisphere, it is winter. I say this because it seems that many of you are NOT aware. Here in Minnesota it is a daily discovery for many, like sheep who are startled to see the sun rising in the morning, and astonished by all the green stuff in the fields.* "It's COLD out there!" people like to say, and I will grant you those four words upon entering heated confines, although I myself prefer to go with a simple "Brr." In extreme cold it may be necessary to verbally acknowledge the temperature in order to shake it off. Neither of the two above variations requires a response from the hearer; a nod or a sympathetic smile is courteous, but not mandatory. This is how we roll. Meteorologists are permitted to talk about the weather at greater length, but considering that meteorologists are witches who manipulate the weather and feed false information to the public, there is little point in listening to them. THE SENSIBLE THING TO DO is to say very little about the weather, lest you be mistaken for a meteorologist.
IF YOU ARE NOT a meteorologist, and you feel an urge to expound upon the cold, to detail how cold your ears are, how you thought the windchill was going to kill you, or how the snow stuck to your shoes, YOU MUST LEARN. Winter is cold. Ice is slippery. Also, water is wet, speed kills, and Godzilla is angry. If you are a recent immigrant from warmer climes, you have a grace period of two winters; after that, you are no longer allowed to remark with wonder about the heaps of snow lining the sidewalk or the fact that, gosh, driving on snow and ice is sorta tricky. THE SENSIBLE THING TO DO is to swallow your rage against the weather until such time as a meteorologist crosses your path, at which time you may "slip" on a patch of ice and decapitate them with a snow shovel. The authorities generally look the other way in such cases. Be sure, however, that it is a silver snow shovel, or you will be haunted by the meteorologist's disembodied head, which will hover outside your bedroom window at night, singing "Summer Breeze" and vomiting needles.
FURTHER, if your vanity does not permit you to dress for the weather, you have already forfeited any right to complain about it. This is Protestant country, after all, and Protestants are hard people. (Look up the Salem Witch trials if you don't believe me.) If you will not wear the many layers of shapeless-but-practical winter garb of our culture, swaddling yourself in long underwear, boots, scarves, hats, hoods, and coats that give supermodels the appearance of being well-fed, then the merest shiver from you will become an invitation to rebuke. "You shoulda dressed warmer," we will say, in sober, disapproving tones, as if preemptively mourning your death by exposure. And you will deserve it. (The disapproving tones, not the death by exposure. Protestants are hard people, but--witches and meteorologists aside--not bloodthirsty.) Particularly if you will not sensibly accessorize for fear of "messing up" your hair. UM. Today, with the windchill, it is 15 degrees below zero by our quaint American temperature scale. Be a glam guy or a tough girl if you like, but if that is your choice then your suffering is your own business and no one else's. THE SENSIBLE THING TO DO is to shave your head, wear a hat, and install a personal generator to store all the static electricity you generate against the day when the meteorologists take out all the power plants with tornadoes and try to seize the government.
FINALLY, do not watch the local TV weather-persons. They are, in most cases, meteorologists, and therefore the enemy. Their subliminal messages will convince you to buy SUVs and crash them in the ditch for their highlight reels. Buy your own thermometer, ride the bus, and do not trust people who talk to you about the weather.
*Yes, this is an allusion to Douglas Adams. If you didn't catch it DON'T BLAME ME.
IF YOU ARE NOT a meteorologist, and you feel an urge to expound upon the cold, to detail how cold your ears are, how you thought the windchill was going to kill you, or how the snow stuck to your shoes, YOU MUST LEARN. Winter is cold. Ice is slippery. Also, water is wet, speed kills, and Godzilla is angry. If you are a recent immigrant from warmer climes, you have a grace period of two winters; after that, you are no longer allowed to remark with wonder about the heaps of snow lining the sidewalk or the fact that, gosh, driving on snow and ice is sorta tricky. THE SENSIBLE THING TO DO is to swallow your rage against the weather until such time as a meteorologist crosses your path, at which time you may "slip" on a patch of ice and decapitate them with a snow shovel. The authorities generally look the other way in such cases. Be sure, however, that it is a silver snow shovel, or you will be haunted by the meteorologist's disembodied head, which will hover outside your bedroom window at night, singing "Summer Breeze" and vomiting needles.
FURTHER, if your vanity does not permit you to dress for the weather, you have already forfeited any right to complain about it. This is Protestant country, after all, and Protestants are hard people. (Look up the Salem Witch trials if you don't believe me.) If you will not wear the many layers of shapeless-but-practical winter garb of our culture, swaddling yourself in long underwear, boots, scarves, hats, hoods, and coats that give supermodels the appearance of being well-fed, then the merest shiver from you will become an invitation to rebuke. "You shoulda dressed warmer," we will say, in sober, disapproving tones, as if preemptively mourning your death by exposure. And you will deserve it. (The disapproving tones, not the death by exposure. Protestants are hard people, but--witches and meteorologists aside--not bloodthirsty.) Particularly if you will not sensibly accessorize for fear of "messing up" your hair. UM. Today, with the windchill, it is 15 degrees below zero by our quaint American temperature scale. Be a glam guy or a tough girl if you like, but if that is your choice then your suffering is your own business and no one else's. THE SENSIBLE THING TO DO is to shave your head, wear a hat, and install a personal generator to store all the static electricity you generate against the day when the meteorologists take out all the power plants with tornadoes and try to seize the government.
FINALLY, do not watch the local TV weather-persons. They are, in most cases, meteorologists, and therefore the enemy. Their subliminal messages will convince you to buy SUVs and crash them in the ditch for their highlight reels. Buy your own thermometer, ride the bus, and do not trust people who talk to you about the weather.
*Yes, this is an allusion to Douglas Adams. If you didn't catch it DON'T BLAME ME.