Monday, May 15, 2006
Why Sometimes All Of Seattle Needs to Shut It
I am not a native of the Seattle area.
My family moved here in 1989, which really should be long enough ago that I could say that I am from here. I have lived here longer than anywhere else.
Here is how I know that I am not a native yet.
I actually like Seattle.
People who are from here, who have never really lived in another area, are pretty fucking wretched about it. As some one from a flat land that is either dry and brown or covered in fucking snow I marvel at this place I live in now. We have mountains and grass that is green year round. People here do not have air conditioners and own super warm coats only for skiing. They drive by some of the most gorgeous scenery in the world and don't even notice it.
And they just kill me about the weather. It was about seventy here today. Clear skies. And I heard NOTHING but bitching about it every fucking where I went. Most were complaining because it wasn't hot (even though it is only May here people) but many were complaining that it was too hot or too humid.
These people do not know hot or humid or cold for that matter. I know that I will whine at some point about being too hot this summer but even as I do it I will know that I am full of shit. But in Seattle we are not pleased unless it is between 65 and 80 degrees. And believe me the entire town has a fucking meltdown at 81 degrees buying air conditioners and becoming convinced that they will die of heat exhaustion**.
My idea is that everyone born here should be forced to relocate for at least three years. Somewhere outside of California. Somewhere that will force them to learn about windchill and the heat index. Where they will have to buy a snowblower and an air conditioner.
At the end of three years they can come back and maybe then they will stop bitching about having to mow their lawns in January.
I just do not understand bitching about this.
**True story, my mother used to have a rule that my sister and I could not wear shorts until it was over eighty degrees. Which meant we could wear shorts exactly ONE DAY the first summer we lived here. On that day the news was reporting that parents should keep children inside because they could die (apparently BURSTING INTO FLAMES) from the heat.