If you don't like the weather.............

As a dyed in the wool New Englander, I got used to many things growing up. Apple picking in the fall, Maple syrup in the spring (yes, there is real syrup out there, and no, it is nothing like that insidious Log Cabin crap. If by chance you actually like the store bought stuff, there is no hope for you) and the realization that Massachusetts politicians know of only the Massachusetts east of I-495. Personally, I think that they are scared they'll fall off the edge of the earth should they actually attempt to make the trek to Greenfield. We are also used to roads that will shake the fillings out of our teeth, and the exhaust systems off of our cars. Then there is the road salt, a substance applied to the roads in winter to hopefully give us the traction we will need in order to survive driving during that season, but also has the ability to dissolve most vehicles into grease stained piles of iron oxide in what seems like a matter of moments.

Then there is the weather. We do have warm weather at times (really, we do) usually for the month of July, and a few other days during the year when Mother Nature slips up and takes pity on us. Otherwise, we have our four seasons; winter, recovering from winter, momentarily forgetting winter, and getting ready for winter. I must admit that making it through a New England winter does give you a sense of accomplishment, a feeling that you can do anything.
Even successfully appropriating money from Boston. I never though too much about it; living through sub-zero temps, bouncing cars off of snow drifts, and dressing in so many layers that a bad fart could actually back up and blow the wax out of your ears (And when you live in a state where baked beans are the national dish, believe me, it is a real danger). It was just a part of life, and when everyone was going through the same situations, it was really nothing special.

But it did give me many stories to tell (or embellish) when I moved to Florida. And I figured that adding a little 'panache' to a memory of a New England winter wouldn't hurt. Besides, having someone find out the truth wasn't a problem. I mean really, a Floridian traveling to New England? Not happening baby. I have seen grown people here start blubbering when the temperature falls below 60. Down here the seasons are ever so slightly different. They are summer, recovering from summer, momentarily forgetting summer, and getting ready for summer. Don't get me wrong, I love warm weather. And measuring warm weather in months instead of hours was a new and wonderful time for me. But my God, the humidity! I mean really! Moisture laden air so thick that you have to run your windshield wipers? Sweating so bad, that buying deodorant in drums and checking yourself for Spanish moss is a part of life? Heat so intense that cooling off involves getting out of the pool, not getting into it? Air that you can lean on?

And then there are the hurricanes. Now in Massachusetts, we had storms. Blizzards, the occasional Nor'easter, thunderstorms, maybe a rare twister now and then. But storms that can lift houses? Shave roads off of the top soil? Send boats on long cruises inland? In New England, you could count the number of hurricanes on the IQ points of a State Senator. Down here, very different. And I made the mistake of coming down here during the worst hurricane season of all, 2004-2005. When a record was set for the most number of hurricanes to hit the state in a given year. And when one particularly bad one called Ivan passed right over us, hitting Perdido Key dead on.

When I started this blog, I said that I wanted to being forth the humor in discovering all of the differences between the north and the south. Now, how you may ask, can humor be found in something that can cause so much destruction and tragedy? Well, like any dark time in life, you can find humor if you try hard enough. May be our way to cope with a bad situation, maybe we're just demented. But it abounded in the days after the storm. When you are waiting in lines for gas, food, ice, tarps for roofs, when you are comparing damage with your neighbors, when the whole street turns into one big BBQ because all of the freezers are dead and the food will go bad otherwise, you need to cope. There are two ways to do so, cry or laugh.Which would you rather do? Me too. And boy did we have fun. Neighbors who normally never said hi, are now family. If folks found ice, MREs, or gas, they tried to bring back as much as possible in order to share with the neighborhood. We spent the days helping each other out with repairs, we spent the nights drinking warm Budweiser and telling jokes under skies so laden with stars that it seemed as if they would start falling because there was no more room.

It made me realize that there was one less difference between us. No matter the situation, whether you are from New England, Florida, or any other part of this crazy blue/green orb that we live on, a sense of humor is ingrained in each of us. Maybe some learned to use it better than others, but it is there. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all laugh ourselves sick, tell jokes that will cause folks to expel whatever they're drinking through their noses, and roll on the ground in convulsions? Better than some things out there now. And that's why I'm here. To help you realize the gift that you have, that is in all of us. The ability to find everything that is funny in and on this earth.It's a big mission. But I think that we are all up to it. Now find your old whoopee cushion, your joy buzzer, your dribble glass, and go find some unsuspecting human. And laugh.