Get Adobe Flash player

No, we're not used to the cold

Cold

 

By Angela Reinhardt
Staff writer
This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

    We don’t know how to handle the cold here in Pickens County - and why should we? We’re southerners.
    I realize not everyone reading this is from the south, but like many of you I’ve always called Georgia home.
    Now I’m 31 and could count on my fingers and toes the times we’ve had snow in metro Atlanta. Still, some non-southerners get self righteous and call us wimps when we cancel school and rush to the grocery store after forecasters predict snow - or worse, the dreaded “wintry mix.”
    These folks need to remember that for southerners “cold” is the low 30s, and even then we only expect it for a few days - a week tops. Our idea of a winter wardrobe is a jacket (most of us own one “big,” poorly insulated one), skimpy (but cute) gloves, hiking boots and a few layers of long-sleeved shirts we scrounged together from our fall wardrobe. This paltry collection is what we use to get  through that day or two of freezing temps before we get back to normal weather.
      Cars and trucks are another excellent example of how poorly equipped we are for winter. Many southerners don’t own special winter accoutrements like ice scrapers, which means on mornings our windshields are frozen we default to the best available alternative - usually an expendable plastic card in our wallet. I use my blood donor card. I also have no idea where to get snow chains for tires, but if I did (and I imagine most southerners would agree) I would never actually buy them.
     Go and dish us out an “arctic blast” like the one we weathered a few weeks ago and it’s mayhem. Our pipes bust. School is cancelled. No one wants to go to work and our conversations rarely divert from grumbling about the weather.
    That same week I interviewed a nice man from Minnesota who built a snowmaking machine for his daughter. I was wearing two layers of clothing, my scarf and my cotton pea coat. When I got to his house I realized my gloves were back at the office. After five minutes of note-taking my hands were throbbing and I was ready to get in the van - but before I left I made the mistake of walking too close to the snow maker and the hair on the right side of my head froze (which was actually kind of cool).
    “You’re not prepared for this kind of weather, are you?” the man asked me with a sheepish little grin.  
    Well, no, I’m not. I lost my big coat two winters ago and I don’t own one stitch of clothing made from wool, shearling or alpaca hair - but the next day I adapted. I wore two layers under my jeans, three pairs of socks, three shirts, a leather jacket and my husband’s puffy Member’s Only coat, and I was borderline comfortable.
    That morning, as a fun little experiment, I took a cup of water and threw it on our truck. In less than three seconds it froze, but the really crazy thing was I could HEAR it freeze. For northerners this is normal; for me and other southerners it’s something that could only happen in the Twilight Zone or on the ice planet Rura Penthe – not here on Earth.
    But let’s not forget people like Mike, a friend who moved here after living in central Florida for 30 years. My husband and I had dinner with Mike last weekend and I giggled listening to his 10-minute tirade about north Georgia winters, which he likened to “moving to hell,” and “living in a freezer.”
    I told him it could be worse. At least we have four seasons.
    “Yeah, it could be worse,” he said. “I could be frozen solid on the front porch, dead. That would be worse.”  
    The truth is, being intolerable to certain types of weather is ubiquitous. People in the north have a hard time with our heat, and people from farther south think north Georgia in winter is torture. 
    It’s not that we southerners couldn’t adapt to harsh wintery weather if we had to, we just don’t have the opportunity - and quite frankly a lot of us don’t want it.    

Add comment


Security code
Refresh