Rarified Air
It is a crisp autumnal day here in Cleveland, just 10 days away from the beginning of winter. Convertible drivers are taking their tops down, kids got away with shorts (or at least some cool clothing), fall leaves could have risen back to their trees. Ah, the sheer delight of 60 in December. The holidays are fast approaching and, in the slick 'snow belt' of America, it's difficult to imagine life without a white Christmas or Hanukah, for that matter. But, all signs point to bright, sunshiny days. That doesn't mean Old Man Winter won't come roaring through in a couple weeks, it just means he has been mostly dormant this time of year. Last year, this time, we watched temperatures dip close to 10 degrees if not cooler. The lowest I can remember this year is about 18 degrees -- a virtual heat wave versus that 10. The bigger question, though, is why should I care? I grew up in this climate. I have suffered for years. I even went to school in Ithaca where finals were once postponed a week because of the white stuff. I lived through a 'white out' in Philly (a joke compared to our 'white outs' here). My only escape was the six or so years I spent soaking in the sun and sands of South Florida. So, the answer to my hypothetical question becomes this: I do care. I would be lying if I told you otherwise. I hate the cold air and the snow. It sucks the wind out of me -- in effect shoving me into lifeless seasonal affective disorder. But, not even drugs can solve that slump. In the end, I just have to grin and bear it. I have to remember how much fun it was making snowmen and having snowball fights during a game of 'King of the Mountain'. I have to accept the fact that -- very soon -- this will be the recurrent climate of my life -- cold, snowy with a huge chance for sunshine.
