Okay. We get it already. We don’t know what snow is. Pardon us if our eyes glaze over while you regale us with more stories about how you walked two miles through neck-deep snow to get to school. Yeah, yeah, we know. It was uphill both ways. We’ve heard the stories. Forty ways from Sunday.
But you’re not in Minnesota anymore. You’re here. And I just want to give you a primer on how we do things in case you want to shake yourself out of your dream world and join the rest of us.
When you hear the first rumor of snow at work, you are to shift instantly to a state of alert readiness. Surf the weather and news websites for any information you can find. If the weather system is coming out of the Gulf, prepare for shutdown.
Tell everyone around you what you’ve heard and seen on the Internet. They will do the same. Join your co-workers in a vigilant window-watch. When you hear a chorus of screams, it means that people have seen the first flake.
Grab only necessary personal items from your desk and walk calmly but briskly for the exit. As you pass by your boss’s office, peek in and make quick eye-contact. He will waive you off with a “Yes, yes, go on. Go!”
Elbow your way through the jam-up at the front door and try to get your car out of the parking lot first. By now, there will be a hint of possible accumulation and the air will be filled with snowy specks. You will hear engines revving like Sunday in Daytona.
Go straight to the first grocery store you see. Move on to another only if you can’t find a parking space. Run inside and make a mad dash for the bread and milk. Don’t waste time getting a cart or basket. If necessary, go under people’s legs or stand on shelves and reach over them. Grab what you can.
Hurry to the checkout counter and take as many batteries as you can hold if there are any left. The loud clamor you hear as you wait in line is people chatting nervously and excitedly as they look out the front windows.
Join the fun, but keep your remarks brief. Something like, “Oh, wow, it’s beautiful!” or “Look! I think it’s starting to stick!” Open your eyes wide and keep your mouth agape like the people all around you. When your turn comes at checkout, look the clerk straight in the eye and gush, “It’s snowing!”
By the time you get near your home, the road will be mostly white and cars will be going ten miles an hour. Watch ahead diligently for uphill grades and plan in advance how you will pass the car that is sure to be stopped half-way up the hill.
When you get home, dig out the old sled from under everything in the utility shed. Turn on the TV and watch the local channels. They have all been pre-empted for weather watch updates. You will receive instructions on how to deal with hypothermia in case the temperature dips below 30. Yes, Farenheit. There is no Celsuius here.
When the kids get home, dress them up in five layers of clothing and send them outside with the sled. There will already be a dozen other kids playing on the hill in the snow and mud. The lucky ones have sleds and are the new most popular kids on the block.
Snuggle up under a comforter with someone you love, sip some hot chocolate, and watch for the announcements of tomorrow’s closings. When you see your company (and you will), raise your mug and let out a cheer. When you see your kids’ school (and you will), go to the door and yell the news out to them. They will shriek with delight.
The next morning, pretend that the roads are too slick to drive on and call into work to leave a message. Everyone will know that you’re lying, but they’re all leaving messages, too.
Enjoy your day off by walking outside to look at the winter wonderland. Join your neighbors gathered at the top of the hill where the kids are playing. Exchange stories about what you’ve seen on the news. Smallville got almost four inches. There’s an icy bridge in Pleasantown. This is the biggest snow in six years.
Wait for the inevitable. Someone who calls people “you guys” instead of “y’all” will mention a storm they endured one winter in Buffalo. Watch the sullen expressions on everyone’s faces. There will be a long silence. People will will look at the ground and fidget. Even the kids will stop playing. No one will respond.
You want to be a hero? Open your mouth and say, “Buffalo shmuffalo. I’m from Minnesota, and this is the prettiest snow I’ve ever seen.” Eyes will brighten up. Smiles will spread across faces. The kids will start playing again. Someone will mention Smallville for the seventh time. And your neighbors will love you for the rest of your days.
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