Back in Minnesota when the air temperature dropped below zero and the wind chill headed toward 30 below, I didn’t like the cold, but it was fine because I still had metabolism. Now, after seven decades, cold weather hits me in the face like brain freeze.
That’s right. That kind of cold makes your forehead hurt just
like eating ice cream too fast. As a kiddo, it’s kind of exhilarating. As a mature
adult it’s life or death.
Of course, at this temperature you can see your breath. In
this era of the pandemic, you can’t tell whether your glasses fogged up because
of the cold or because your mask isn’t tight enough around your nose.
You know it’s too cold when your coffee cup is already
cooling off as you take it from the Keurig. Grocery stores always seem to be at
meat hanging temperature but when the outside temperature is worse you wear
your gloves and zip up your parka as you peruse the aisles. Opening a plastic
produce bag becomes a life changing decision. The freezer aisle actually seems
warmer than the rest of the store. Your fingers are numb when you try to pay
your bill. That race to the car with your purchases brings you back to a brain
freeze feeling.
In Minnesota, everyone trots out the favorite winter phrase: “Cold
enough for ya?” In your youth you respond with “it’s great cuddling weather” or
“Nothing a good stiff drink can’t fix.” By middle age you’ve switched to “That’s
Minnesota for ya!” or “Well, it sure keeps out the riffraff.”
After seven decades your response is just an icy stare as you
walk past the grinning frozen chosen.
