For example, I can’t recall the last time I used the phrase “you’se guys!” That in itself is a major cause for concern.
Luckily, a rather large snowstorm just rolled through the Twin Cities, and now I feel a little better. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
This morning I was at work, monitoring the weather radar online, along with probably everybody else in the company. The Great Storm was coming. According to the online chatter, we’d be lucky to make it out of this one alive. Two inches of snow? Four? Six? It didn’t matter!! There’s nowhere else to put the snow! We were going to be buried! Mass extinction was inevitable!
The radar showed a giant blob the size of
And so, just as the snow was beginning to come down somewhat heavily, I was on my way. The drive home turned out to not be very bad at all, and I arrived safely, feeling smug and satisfied with my decision.
Shortly after, however, I began to feel the nagging doubts about how much Yooper I still had in me. I mean, I left work early because I was afraid of snow!!! No Yooper does that! And that wasn’t even the worst part! I’d been watching the weather radar! In the U.P., there’s no point in ever looking at the radar. The giant blob the size of
I glanced out the window and realized that it looked like a typical U.P. winter day. And here I was, running scared!
I decided to redeem myself as best I could.
An hour or so after dinner, while the rest of the Twin Cities was holed up indoors, I put on my boots, hat, and gloves, and stepped outside. (Actually, I put on more than that.) Whoa! Things had gotten worse! The snow was moving horizontally now, and the accumulation was pretty impressive. In fact, it was looking like a worse than average February U.P. day!
Perfect.
And so, striving for some form of redemption, I went for a walk in a snowstorm for no reason, and it was fantastic. It was cold and windy and snowy and blustery and miserable and just perfect. Nobody was out and about. I had the great outdoors to myself. I was pleased to see no other tracks where I was walking, which was where the sidewalk was supposed to be. It reminded me of trekking to the bus stop when I was a kid. I turned around and walked backwards to get out of the wind. I hadn’t executed that move in several decades. As the snow continued to whip around, I began to feel better about myself.
After a while, I turned around ta go back. Dere was snow down my neck, but I didn’t really care. A little snow never hurt nobody. I kept goin’, thinking that it’d been a long time since I had pasty for supper. A couple’a cars drove by, but I don’t think they saw me. I wondered if Mr. Norm was still on WCCY, and when the last time I had Baroni’s spaghetti was. It was pretty tough going there for a while, but I soon got useta it.
‘Bout tirty minutes later, I got back home. I took off my swampers, mittens, and chook, and put them by the register to dry. I wanted a cup’a coffee, but it was too late. That caffeine stuff keeps me awake, you know, and I do hafta work tomorrow.
Anyways, I think I proved a little somethin’ tonight. You’se guys, I think I still got a little Yooper left in me!
I wasn't a yooper near as long as you were, and have been 'away' since 1982 - and yet every time I teach a class someone will ask me - are you from up north? I'm convinced it's always there - in snow toughness and accent. Good read. I enjoyed the transition.
ReplyDeleteThanks! Once in Utah, I was asked if I was Canadian.
ReplyDeletePretty soon you'll be able to ask the young lads "Whose boy you?" It's been a while since I've heard that but it always cracks me up when I do. I'm pretty sure you left work early to avoid the idiots going in the ditch and not to avoid driving in snow.
ReplyDeleteI'm practicing up on "Whose boy are you?" When I do bust it out, I don't want to mess it up!
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, I left mainly to avoid the other guy. However, that reason didn't fit in with the narrative I was trying to create, so I glossed over it. I probably shouldn't be admitting to that, as it takes away all of my credibility.
I was insulted when I was in Copper World in Calumet, and the clerk asked me where I lived and when I said Minnesota said, "Oh! that's the accent!". I've never been so insulted. I still feel Yooper.
ReplyDeleteAnn B.
I may be a Minnesotan now but you won't ever get the Yooper outta this girl's soul.
ReplyDelete