(Please Don't) Let It Snow

Never mind the fact that it seems to have been January for the last five months straight, or that here in Charlotte, North Carolina it rains approximately eight and a half days every week (that is a fact, even it if seems like an exaggeration), now the ultimate fill-my-heart-with-dread event has occurred: the weatherman is talking about snow later this week. Granted, it would be what we call a "dusting" rather than a major snowpocalypse--it takes at least an inch of wintry precipitation to cause that level of crisis--but still, it's snow. In the South. And a lot of y'all are, for reasons outside my understanding, actually excited about it. I mean, some of you are doing all those winter superstitions to try and conjure the stuff, for Pete's sake. You know the things I mean--putting a spoon under your pillow, flushing ice cubes down the toilet, and putting on your pajamas inside out and backward. All things I might have, at one time in my naive youth, considered doing in a fitful snow dance myself. No more. And I'll tell you why I say no to snow: I'm Southern, and frankly my dear, we just can't handle it.

Other than that, let it snow.

For starters, any time the "s" word is mentioned in our weather forecast, we all go into milk sandwich hysteria. You know what I'm talking about: whether you want it or not, even if you are lactose intolerant and gluten free and haven't had a glass of milk or a loaf of bread since the Obama administration, the sheer societal pressure from the panicked Southern folk around you will inevitably force you to the insanely crowded grocery store, where you will elbow, scratch, and claw your way to the empty shelves in an attempt to buy sustenance for the winter weather that looms before you. What do you need milk and bread for, exactly? No one knows, but everyone stockpiles. I personally load up on things like Chex Mix, Diet Coke, and Flamin' Hot Cheetos, but that's the modern, devil-may-care rebel in me, I suppose.

For reasons unknown to anyone, milk and bread become black market,
rare-find snow commodities down here.

Another reason we simply do not need snow down here in the South is that we can't dress for it. We spend our fun money on things like pool floats, bathing suits, or sundresses, not waterproof winter boots and snow pants. Have you ever seen someone walking in the snow in flip flops? I haven't either, but you know it happens. A few flakes cover the ground, we need to make one of those snowmen that is half red mud and half ice, and suddenly we are putting sandwich bags on over our socks to try and keep our feet dry. Aren't we better than that? We are a society made for things like open toe shoes and seersucker, which last I checked, don't pair well with blizzard conditions.

And in case you forgot the great Atlanta "snowmageddon" in 2014 (which Saturday Night Live hilariously spoofed in a skit where they dubbed snow "the devil's dandruff"), we can't drive in the snow either. Let's be honest: we aren't great in the rain, but my word let that rain turn to sleet or snow and we lose our minds and our driver's education. We have traffic jams, poor idiots sliding off the road or worse, into other cars, and pure transportational shutdown. We wind up walking in the snow in our flip flops (again, I've never actually seen it, but I know in my heart it happens). For some reason, Southerners can cut doughnuts in their pickup trucks in slippery wet mud all Saturday long, but let the highway have a frosty sheen and no one remembers which is the gas and which is the brake.

Southerners, take note: here is how we drive in the snow. 

I've reached the conclusion that the only thing I really like about snow is watching it fall. It's peaceful and beautiful for a few hours, viewed from inside a warm house with a crackling fire. Beyond that, it's a cold, wet, messy, annoyance and I just don't have an arsenal of movies or television shows strong enough to get me through it right now. I hate to rain on your spoon-under-the-pillow backward-pajamas parade, but as for me and my house, we will be over here wishing: please don't let it snow, I beg of you don't let it snow, snow thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, all this talk of snowfall has me jonesing for a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk. I guess I'd better stock up.