In honor of the snow, today's installment of "How to be a Northwesterner" will actually consist of two parts... We will first be discussing the subject of precipitation... Sit back, relax, have some coffee (and none of this decaf shit; we're learning to be Northwesterners...), and listen up...
PRECIPITATION
It rains all the damned time here. It rains so often that you don't really notice it much after awhile. You just sort of expect it to be raining. Depressing? Not in the least. The rain is soft and slow, and it often rains while the sun is shining. It's not really rain, exactly; it's more like a very constant, very thick mist.
Now, nobody from the Northwest is actually from the Northwest. Everybody who lives here has been imported from someplace else. Mostly California. So, on average, I think, most people who live here now have been living here maybe four years. I'm guessing on that: you don't need to put that in your notes. Maybe one-fortieth of Western Washingtonians, for example, were actually born here. (Don't write that down either...) Thus, there are some pretty major discrepancies in the ways people react to the rain.
Once you've lived here for about a year, you give up on your umbrella. Why bother, after all? You're going to get wet no matter what, but you're not going to get REALLY wet unless you find a nice big patch of grass and roll around in it. Umbrellas are useless. You figure it out after awhile. If you see somebody walking with an umbrella, you can pretty much guarantee that they haven't lived here long. However, galoshes ("rubbers" as my grandmother calls them) are different. At about the same time you give up on umbrellas, you purchase a pair of galoshes. And boy are those things sexy. (For proper Northwest usage of the word "sexy," see installment one...) Why? Because yeah, you're always going to get a little wet, but there's really no justification for having cold, wet, muddy feet.
Also, unlike stupid Northeasterners, Northwesterners do not paint their sneakers with watercolors and expect them to stay painted. Damn. Guess I learned my lesson there.
Now, here comes the complicated part of Northwest precipitation. On the very Western part of Washington state, it rarely snows. Maybe twice a year is what people keep telling me. No matter how the hell long you've been here, you MUST be fascinated by snow. Since most everybody who didn't grow up here is from California, this isn't difficult...
Practicing the Northwest reaction to snow:
It begins to snow. You say, "WHOA, look, it's SNOWING!" You immediately rush outside. You try to catch flakes on your tongue. You are surprised that they melt when they reach your tongue. You extend your hands to see if the flakes are cold. You insist that the temperature must be thirty degrees lower than it was yesterday, because snow is so cold. You loudly announce that you're from California, so you've only seen this sort of thing, like, twice. Say it like that: "I'm from California, so I've only seen this, like, twice!" Mention the snow at least six times over breakfast. Be surprised yet delighted that the snow is sticking to your coat. Be delighted that it's sticking in your hair. Mention how cold it is again. Wonder, at least seventeen times why it's not sticking to the sidewalks. Wonder why it sticks to grass, but not to sidewalks. Open the shades in your room. Stare out the window. Say: "I hate snow!" Say: "This is so beautiful!" Be completely ambiguous as to your position on snow. Do NOT, under any circumstances, be apathetic about snow. Northwesterners aren't apathetic about much of anything, but certainly not snow.
If you start telling a story about the year you got three feet of snow, and then an ice storm in the same week, you've given yourself away: you REALLY haven't lived here long.
Ask: "what is that stuff on the sidewalks?" Be told (by your token Northeast friend) that it's salt, to melt the snow. Be delighted. Have no understanding whatsoever of the environmental hazards of salting your sidewalks. Be unable to comprehend what, exactly, an "ice storm" is. Be told (by your token Northeast friend) to go see the Ang Lee movie. Be amazed to learn that weather actually DOES stuff like that -- it's not all just special effects. Be unable to comprehend the idea that Buffalo got seven feet of snow in two days this year. Pretend you believe it to satiate your East Coast pal, but in your heart, believe that it's just more media B.S. Remember: up until now, you've pretty much disbelieved in snow altogether. Be unable to understand things like snow forts, snowmen, and snow angels. Just simply don't understand. Keep insisting you're cold. Keep staring in wonder.
If you happen to see anybody else -- for example, in an elevator, in a restaurant, in a cafeteria, on a bus, in your place of residence, announce to them: "It's snowing! Did you see the snow?" If they too are a Northwesterner, they will sort of giggle and say, "Yeah, dude, that's SO cool!"
[I kid you not -- a kid just pounded on the door to my room, and ran in yelping, "You guys, you guys, did you see the snow!? Look out the window!" I replied, "Yeah, cool." He replied, "No, NOW look at it!!! It's doing something different now! It's like, CRAZY, man!"]
[Helena despises snow. Helena grew up with two feet of snowdrifts in her yard and two feet of slush on her sidewalks. Helena's had plenty enough snow to last her a few lifetimes... Helena, alas, doesn't get much joy out of snow. And having seen so damned much of it, she's really ceased to understand how snow can be "doing something different." Helena is not a real Northwesterner yet. Maybe she'll have to relearn how to be awed by something as stupid and gross and commonplace as snow. Cripes, guys, it's not even sticking; what the hell's so freaking cool about snow!?]
[...But then again, Helena's still awed by all the rain...]
ACCENTS
The most important thing to remember about the Northwest accent is that almost nobody really has one. Contrary to what you may have heard, there is no "Seattle Accent." Or rather, there is, but it's a bastard accent, much in the same way American English is a bastard language. We will now explore how to get one...
First, pretend you have a nice, plain, Hollywood accent. That is, "no" accent at all: the accent you hear in movies.
Second, practice saying your vowels. Ay. Ee. Eye. Oh. Yu.
Third, take each of these vowels and stretch them into maybe four or five vowels. For example, the word "Oh." Don't say "Oh." Say: "Uuuuaaaoooooh!" Bonus points if you can get an "E" in there. And since it's taken you so long to say it, end it with an exclamation point so that people know you're Northwestern. People who live here who actually have accents other than the Hollywood non-accent usually manage to stretch out their vowels to some pretty extreme lengths. They also pronounce all their "R's." For assistance in practicing your vowels, listen to anything by Pearl Jam. Sing along. Incorporate that whole vowel thing into your daily speech. Yes, I know it's weird, but we're learning to be Northwesterners here. For assistance in practicing your "R's," listen to Liz Phair a lot. (FYI -- Liz Phair was born in the Midwest someplace, and went to school in Ohio, so I don't know what the hell HER excuse is. Or maybe the Western Washingtonians picked up the "R" thing from her... It wouldn't surprise me in the least...)
Well, that's installments two and three for you... Happy trails... Helena's off to do her homework, because she's been a bad little scholar and is STILL only halfway through the book she's been reading for the past three days...
~H.T.*