Snow and Seattle: A worse couple than McCain-Palin

I wonder if the Mayan calendar or Nostradamus prophesied about snowfall in Seattle. Every time we get the white stuff here, life as we know it morphs into something out of the Book of Revelation.

Yesterday marked the forty-seventh anniversary of President Kennedy's assassination, one of our nation's defining moments, yet for those of us who live in the Seattle area, we'll just wait until next year and think twice as hard about number forty-eight. Come on, it snowed.

When it snows here, people choose up sides. They're either on the squad of those who panic and leave work with the first dusting, or they join the team of those who stay too long and leave work together in their rear-wheel-drive Lebarons. If you're a member of the latter group, it doesn't matter if cars litter the roadside like Camel butts, because dammit, you know your skills and your equipment. You'll make it.

Oops, you didn't make it.

I always make the mistake of turning on the local news when it snows, maybe just to get a glimpse of the Automotive Ice Capades. Reporters love this stuff—they plant themselves with a camera crew at the base of Queen Anne or Capital Hill and tape the poor suckers as they skid one after another into the ditch or another car. At this point, the camera will pan over to the reporter in her Action22 News Parka as she analyzes the situation:

"I'm standing here at the bottom of Denny Way in downtown Seattle, where it's snowing. As you can see, it's snowing where I stand as well as at the top of the hill, where our Action22 Superzoom video camera is providing a spectacular shot of some different snow. And now, as you can see, I'm bending over to scoop up some snow with my Action22 gloves, available on our website. This snow is cold and white. Please, if you don't have to go out in this snow, don't go out in it, and if you do, please wear pants, shoes, socks, a shirt and maybe another pair of pants. Back to you, Gil."

Always riveting. Why do I watch? No idea.

Of course, I'm not going to put myself above everyone else and claim that my behavior doesn't change during a winter wonderland. I always feel the need to set out on foot in search of provisions. You'd think that if I didn't fulfull my quest and make it to Safeway for some cheese and a sixpack of IPA, I'd be faced with deciding which family member to eat first. I always feel so satisfied upon entering the supermarket, a frozen Fu Manchu of snot coating my face as I traverse the aisles. I rarely give myself pause to ponder that the grocery store is fully staffed, fully stocked and the parking lot is filled with cars. Who cares? I made it.

I am a Seattlite. I wear odd clothes when it snows. I keep them in the basement and bring them out like Halloween decorations or camping equipment. The idea is to wear the tight stuff under the loose stuff for maximum warmth (please see the above image of my daughter and wife). Some people, like two women I saw at Safeway, only wear spandex and that's only acceptable if they are crawling out of their bobsled or paying tribute to Freddie Mercury.

Another blizzard of fun in the Emerald City.

Fashion and the Winter Olympiad

I work in the fashion industry. However, I'm not a role model, nor a maven of fashion; my fabric of choice is elastic; my shoe of choice is the Converse Arch-Be-Gone (also known as the Chuck Taylor).

Nevertheless, I keep a watchful eye on clothing trends and styles, and I couldn't help but notice two fashion worlds colliding this week, as the the 21st Winter Olympiad opened in Vancouver, BC and New York Fashion Week burst onto the scene in the Big Apple.

I'll leave the New York stuff to the experts, but I do want to share a few nuggets of observation regarding the styles worn by the world's snow and ice athletes 140 miles to the north of my home here in Seattle. I've broken these outfits down to the following categories:

1) The skiers and lugers (Actually, they're called "sliders," not "lugers," probably because "lugers" sounds a little too much like "losers."). These people look the coolest of all, with brightly colored, superhero, super tight suits and sleek, streamline helmets. I would totally dress like this if I were twenty pounds lighter and buff, except I'd probably wear some baggy shorts to hide my "Baryshnikov."

2) The speed skaters. Also very cool looking, except they wear snug, one-piece outfits, with a head covering that makes them look like baby harp seals with forty-inch thighs.

3) The curlers. I love these people because they look like they just fixed your copy machine and didn't change before the competition. I could have sworn I saw a Hostess Berry Pie sticking out of a guy's Dockers' pocket as he bent over, sweeping. I'm completely behind athletes who represent "Herb Everyman," and I could just picture one of them walking over to me at work, cell phone clipped to his belt, saying, "Mornin', the name's Bob. I went ahead and re-stocked your toner and fuser oil. If you need anything else, call me and I'll get back to you as soon as possible, even if I happen to be curlin'."

4) The snowboarders. These are the dudes, the guys and girls who care much more about the look than any type of aerodynamic advantage. They wear jeans. Jeans in the snow. Remember what it was like when you wore jeans to play in the snow for an afternoon? You'd finally burst through your front door, shivering uncontrollably because your pants were wet, frozen and crusty. Your mom would gaze at you, shaking her head. "I told you to wear your snow pants. Now let's get you into a hot bathtub."

5) The figure skaters. Let's just say this is what happens when someone has a Bedazzler and too much time on his hands.

There are other fashion realms of the winter athlete, I'm sure, but I think I've touched upon the main categories. And since it's not practical for someone like me, who spends the day in a cubicle, to wear any of the above clothing choices, I've decided to pursue either a Bruce Jenner or Dorothy Hamill hair style. No difference, really.