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Other Voices
"Are you for it or against it?" the managing editor asked. I didn't have to think long. "I'm against it. Definitely against it." I really don't like winter or anything about it. I don't like cold weather. I don't like sleet or freezing rain. And, no, I really don't like snow. "But watching it fall is so beautiful," my sister-in-law Sharon said. So is watching the sun set on a beach in the Bahamas, and I don't have to put on half the clothes in my closet to go to outside to see it. I suppose I liked snow as a child, but as someone who grew up in southwest Georgia, we really didn't get to see snow that often, maybe once every three or four years. I remember the first time I saw any significant amounts of snow. It was my ninth birthday, and we got five or six inches of snow in Blakely, my hometown in southwest Georgia. It was great. My friend, Brian, had spent the night with me, and we spent the whole morning playing outside. We had snowball fights with friends down the street. We built a huge snowman in the front yard. Of course, by dark, the snow was almost gone. Looking back, that's really the perfect way to have snow, if you must have snow. Get enough to cover the ground so folks can play in it. But have temperature rise enough that it all melts by sundown. That way, we don't have to worry about having snow on the ground for weeks at a time, like they do up north. I don't want to shovel a driveway. I don't want to deice a car. I don't want to put on several layers of clothes, including big, heavy boots every time Glory, the black and white Springer spaniel who lives at my house, wants to go for a walk. And neither, really, does anyone else, which is why everyone in Michigan moves to Florida for the winter. I think the biggest reason I don't like snow is because of my job. When it snows around here now, most of you get the day off to play in the snow. Newspaper people have to come to work so we can write stories about people who get the day off to play in the snow. I'm not really complaining. I do love my job. Newspaper people love being able to report big stories that matter to our readers. But I don't look forward to having to get out and drive in the winter mess. I'm just not prepared for winter weather. I admit that I don't know what I'm supposed to do, and the fact is most of the other fools on the road don't know, either, which could make for a real-life game of bumper cars if ice starts forming. Last February, when we had a mix of snow and ice one night, I discovered my car was iced over. I didn't own an ice-scraper. But I'm nothing if not industrious. I used a spatula. "Did you ever buy a real ice-scraper?" a co-worker asked this week, as the first storm approached. No. The spatula worked for me. "Remind me not to ever eat at your house," he said. Hey, it's not like I scrape the windshield, then put the spatula back in the drawer. I do own a dishwasher. As I type this, I don't know what the weather will be like as you read the paper Sunday morning. Soon, I'll head for home, put on a pot of coffee and think warm thoughts. Maybe we'll get just enough snow to not cause many problems. Then again, maybe it gets really bad.
Either way, me and the spatula are ready.
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