I got it in my head that I had to look north as I decided where to attend college last year. As I explained to distressed parents and pets alike, “It’s just not cold enough for me in D.C.; I need sub-zero temperatures and blankets of snow from the second week in October to the last week in April to function.” A cooler climate was an important factor in my choice, right up there with a disproportionate girl-to-guy ratio and the availability of gourmet dining facilities. No school would be graced with my presence unless I could enjoy winter as it should be enjoyed—with boots, sleds and big puffy earmuffs. Fortunately, I’m discovering that I got my wish, with less change in geography than I thought was required.
Winter reminds me most of being nagged. Not icy roads or blankets of snow or even balmy beaches (you silly West Coasters), winter is just a predictable reprimand to dress warmly. “You’re going to catch cold” is a classic in my mother’s repertoire, as is “two layers are just not enough in this weather” and my all time favorite “In the infinitesimal time it takes you to walk from the front door to the heat of the car, toxic antibodies could infiltrate your weakened immune system if you don’t wear that Redskins Starter jacket I got you for just this kind of pneumonia-inducing weather.”
She never really said anything like that, but often that’s how I interpreted her warnings against the mild, perfectly livable cold that is characteristic of suburban Maryland winters. For reasons unknown to my brothers and me, she consistently delivered these speeches whenever the temperature dipped below 40 degrees. Perhaps she felt it was her perogative as a responsible mother, or maybe it was because she was wearing a heavy jacket and wanted to justify her decision, or maybe she just plain did not understand my needs.
I like the cold. Not arctic cold or Canada cold or even Kenmore freezer cold, but the kind of cold that paints your face red when you step outside. I like the kind of cold which always allows for the possibility of snow, ensures frozen breath and even frozen hair. Wind is neutral in my book—It does get in your face and blow your chapeau off now and then, but without it, we would not be able to brag about ridiculous wind chill temperatures drastically below the actually mercury level.
I feared that going to college was my only chance to flee sometimes Florida-like winter in the D.C. area (I recall temps in the sixties last December) and join the rest of New England in their natural, freezing-cold winters. I wanted all four seasons, dammit! This winter, however, I can whole-heartedly say that I am content with the winter that we have been plowing through these last eight weeks. Temperatures in the teens day after day? Almost two feet of snow? Gray, oh so drably gray, skies? How can a body not love this kind of weather?
Forget my mother’s warnings. The cold is good for you. When you’re walking from one place to another, say, your Village C dorm to St. Mary’s or from New South to Darnall, aren’t you more inclined to quicken your pace to escape the frigid air, thus getting a more worthwhile cardiovascular workout? Or if you’re a smoker, might you give it a second thought knowing that you’ll have to stand out in the cold for that much longer? After spending a few minutes in the cold, doesn’t your nose run, prompting you to blow the rest of the snot out of it, perhaps some of which carries particles of dust that could be carrying a debilitating disease? And no, your nose isn’t running because of “seasonal allergies.”
Face it, people (you too, Mom), the cold is good for you, so be glad that you’re here in the nation’s capital where winter is an uncommon but very welcome guest.
Andrew Balkam is a first-year in the College. He is a professional procrastinator, or will be very soon.
