By Timo Cerantola
I watched in disgust as our TV weatherman gleefully described the frigid cold weather we’ve been having. For some reason, Canadians (except for this one) take a rather bizarre, if not peculiar sort of pride in ourr cold weather.
“It is a very, very cold minus -23 below zero outside…” the smiling weatherman chirped with a perverse cheeriness in his voice. “…and, when I factor in the wind-chill, it feels more like minus -47 degrees.”
Funny, after telling everyone how brutally cold it is, Canadians like to add insult to injury by factoring in the “wind-chill” – which is cold temperatures combined with a nasty frigid wind that makes it feel even colder than what the thermometer would indicate.
Imagine, it’s minus -23 below zero and I haven’t factored in my wind-chill. And I call myself a Canadian. I should be ashamed. What kind of a sloppy, absent-minded Canuck forgets to add frozen insult to frosty injury?
Again this morning, I watched yet another weather related news item on this recent arctic annoyance. People from way up in northern Ontario were actually bragging about their cold temperatures – one of whom, in minus -35 temperatures, was still wearing only a (open) jean jacket over a t-shirt. These numb skulls (forgive them, their brains were actually numb from the cold) were taunting the Toronto-based camera crew, suggesting that southern Ontario was for weather wimps.
“Here in Moosebutt (town motto: Colder than Pluto), we know what cold is – and this ain’t it! You Toronto weather wimps have no idea. Up here it gets so cold, your lungs will freeze up solid if you happen to burp and break wind at the same time!” With the prideful way he spoke, you’d think that frostbite was prestigious. These northerners seemed to be under the impression that cold was a competition. I seriously wondered whether these morons had smashed their collective toboggan into a telephone pole before agreeing to the interview.
Anyway, I have only one thing to say to my frosty northern compatriots… ‘Two minutes on power level four. That should thaw out your frozen brains. Put on your parkas for Pete’s sake. It’s as cold as hell out there. And I mean HELL. (Heck is for people that don’t believe in Gosh).
Suffice it to say, I’m not a winter person. Before my grandfather imigrated to this festival of slush a hundred or so years ago, he actually had a choice between this frozen slab of ice and rocks and the veritable tropical paradise of Australia. I’ll never understand why he chose Canada. Was it easier to spell?
It’s not like the name ‘Canada’ sounds irresistibly inviting. Perhaps if Canada had been named something more descriptive like, ‘Freezyurassoffland’ – my grandfather would have chosen Australia instead, and right now I’d be writing something seriously goofy like, ‘G’Day mate. May your chooks turn into emus and kick your dunny down’ – whatever the hell that means.
True, winter surreptitiously pulls you in. It’s the lure of the Christmas holidays. In fact, a white blanket of snow on Christmas is somewhat romantic and can get you through the first part of winter relatively pain free. With the holidays and all that fluffy falling snow, those caressing sweet tones of our loved ones can be heard to say, “Oh look dear, it’s snowing outside! Isn’t it wonderful?”
Of course by mid January, the sentiment changes quickly. It’s not fluffy or lovely anymore, it’s sickening! As for those loving, caressing tones, they’ve been replaced with a grumpy, gruff, “Hey, you! There’s another foot of that stinking awful snow out there! Get off the couch, grab your shovel and get to work! If I see another snowflake I’m going to go postal and strangle that damned weatherman!”
Indeed, once the holiday season is over, all that’s left is grumpy old lady winter and snow – which, not only has to be shoveled but, can turn driving into a hair-raising, scream like a little girl and lose-total-bladder-control scary adventure ride.
In weather like this, you have to be very careful driving. Of course, life is so much easier if you have four-wheel drive as it allows you to get stuck in more inaccessible places. The point is, please, everyone, drive safe. I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather (not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car).
Anyway, as far as I’m concerned, anyone who brags about living in the one of the coldest places on the planet has obviously forgotten to take his medication. It’s people like this who start the world believing that cold was invented in Canada – which got me to do some serious thinking about ‘cold.’ And so, I did a little research.
Naturally, to trace the invention of cold back to its roots and, to ensure the highest standards of journalistic accuracy, I went to a website called www.fartz.com. According to fartz, the Vikings invented cold.
True. History suggests that it was the Viking “Erik” who discovered cold and quickly renamed himself, “Erik the Red” because “Erik the too damned cold” was too long and didn’t fit on his business card. Of course, Erik’s discovery of cold wasn’t all bad, as it led to the invention of skiing, (not to mention the invention of the broken leg and the invention of the emergency ski patrol).
Perhaps, the most famous of cold inventions is the snowball.
As usual, the Americans claim Abner Doubleday invented it in 1906 at Kittyhawk North Carolina but the real history books credit the Swedish brothers Orville and Wendel Farfevneugen. Apparently, after a major Scandinavian snowfall, the constantly quarrelling brothers could not find any rocks to throw at each other and were forced to make snow replicas.
Oh well, the sad truth is, there’s not a lot you can say to defend this frozen Canadian slush heap in winter. And believe me, my fine and rugged northern friends, factoring in the wind chill isn’t going to impress anyone. Oh well, you know what they say; if you can’t beat them, arrange to have them beaten.
