What I've Learned So Far...

Guidelines For Snowbirds
First published March 11, 2005

Two kinds of people live in Michigan in the winter. There are those who manage to go South and get warm for a while, who we’ll call “Snowbirds,” and there are those who don’t, who we’ll call “Depressed.”

I don’t count people who go to Hawaii, which is clearly not “South.” These people are in a third category, and we’ll call them “Arrogant Pampered Jerks.” I’d really rather not talk about them.

Now if you’ve lived around here for any length of time, you’ve probably found yourself in one category or the other depending on the year – some winters you get a little time in the sun, and some winters you don’t. When I don’t, I try not to begrudge the luckier folks, because I figure sooner or later my turn might come around again, and I don’t want to find myself getting all begrudged.

So I was as gracious as I could manage last week when my friend called me from Florida, just as I got home from work. “Hey man,” I said, cheerfully stomping the ice out of the treads of my sneakers, “How’s the Sunny South?”

“It rained for over an hour today. Can you believe it?”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied, sympathetically shaking the snow out of my jacket and hair. “Well, at least it’s warm down there.”

“Warm! It barely got to seventy-five degrees today!”

“That’s too bad,” I said, rubbing my hands together to see if I could get any feeling back in them. “That must have been really hard on you guys. Seventy-five – brrrrr!”

“And the temperature really dropped when the sun went down. I may have to wear a windbreaker to dinner tonight!”

“Wow, Dude, that really sucks,” I said, sitting next to the puddle of slush by the back door and picking the little ice balls off of my socks. “Good idea to wear a windbreaker, though. You don’t want to catch a chill.”

After I got off the phone, I decided that it might be useful to jot down a few rules that you Snowbirds might observe when you communicate with the rest of us:

• On the way home tonight I watched a panel truck slide off an icy overpass and take out a busload of nuns. Don’t call and complain to me that the little umbrella fell into your Mai Tai.

• If the Victoria’s Secret models are staying at your hotel and rehearsing for an all-thong fashion show out by the pool, don’t tell me about it. Just get pictures and video footage, and we’ll discuss it when you get home.

• Bear in mind that I’m comforting myself with the idea that I’m saving the big bucks you’re spending on your vacation. Please don’t tell me that your boss gave you the keys to his fully-stocked condo, round-trip air fare, and a lotto ticket that hit for the ten grand you’re using for walking-around money.

• My back is sore from shoveling 2,400 pounds of snow out of the driveway so I could get my car stuck in the bank parking lot. I’m not interested in hearing that your back is sore from playing that extra eighteen holes of golf. The same goes for your aches and pains from tennis, water skiing, scuba diving, or surfing. Unless you got bit by an alligator or a shark – that might make me feel a little bit better.

Just remember – in another week or two, you’ll be back in Michigan, slogging around in the frozen muck like the rest of us. And I think you’ll find that the new sun tan you’re sporting is pretty much irrelevant when you’re out there hacking the ice off your windshield at 6:30 in the morning. That’s right, Sun Seeker, you gotta come home some time.

Until then, try to be kind.

Copyright © 2005 Michael Ball

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