Anything that forces people off the streets and indoors is good, in my opinion.  More people need to stay indoors more often, I think.  Many should stay there all the time.  Stay home.  That's the route to world peace. 

So it is with open arms that I embrace this Nor'easter, as I embrace all extreme weather.  Weather teaches humility, patience, and harmony.  Those who rage and rail against it—well, weather's not really the problem, is it?

We had a little taste of winter Thursday, and today's paper is filled with outraged letters about five-hour commutes from Cambridge to Charlestown (a distance of about two and a half miles), or four hours for the six miles from West Roxbury to Kenmore Square.  I'm pretty convinced people who get apoplectic about weather have non-weather-related personality disorders and anger-management issues.  And adults living in Northern climes who have not mastered the concept of winter may have IQ issues to boot.

Instead of blaming the government for not taking better care of them, why didn't some of these outraged commuters line up alternative transportation for the day?  One woman complained bitterly about her commute from and to places served by public transit.  "Why didn't the city plan it out better? There should have been more plows for me! More police for me! And people should be nicer to me!"  And on and on.  

Well, lady, why didn't you avoid all this frustration by just seeking out alternative transportation for the day?  Yes, you would have had other frustrations to deal with, but they would have been fairly minor in comparison to five or six hours stuck in traffic. Why didn't you plan it out better?  You knew a storm was blowing in.  We all did.  Now you're gonna bitch about it to the paper?  Snow happens.  Get over yourself.

I had a perfectly delightful day helping neighbors dig out (the evening was a bit daunting, and I could not move the next day, but I didn't really have to all that much, so it wasn't a problem).  But that's the thing about living locally, and working rhythmically (that's what I'm calling unemployment now): you can handle weather.  And, think about it.  If you can't handle weather, what can you handle?  It's pretty basic. 

People get so cocooned in their virtual worlds, with their nine-to-five work lives, two weeks of vacation time, the news at six and America's Next Top Model at eight, and so on, that they feel they're owed a regular schedule regardless of the seasons, regardless of the weather.  When they are inconvenienced by the reality of the world outside they get belligerent, and start looking for someone to blame. 

Some New Englanders seem to think this attitude makes them interesting, or regional, or... something.  Bitching, moaning, whinging and whining at every possible juncture seems to be viewed as a virtue by some in these parts.  I'm here to tell you: It's not.  It's boring.  It's unattractive.  And sitting on your ass for hours in traffic, which is your own fault, and then sitting and bitching about it for hours, which no one wants to hear, makes you fat.  And if you write a letter to the editor everyone will know you have no friends.  I mean, who writes to the newspaper to complain about the weather?     

I was glad all the whingers were tucked away in their cocoons this morning when I ventured out in the Nor'easter to do some snow-management (that's what I'm calling it now—I am now a Snow Management Technician—I am having my cards printed up as we speak).  It was so peaceful and quiet and clean and white.  I like the post-apocalypticism of deserted cityscapes, just a few survivors out, all bundled up, walking right down the middle of the street, hailing each other gruffly as we pass, raising our shovels like standards.

"I am Legend!" 

One thing about Nor'easters that you may or may not know is that the Metro Boston Meanness Rule usually in effect and strictly enforced is suspended for the duration of them.  This is called the "Nor'easter Niceness Clause," and if you want to see it for yourself, it's on page fourteen of the Meanness Contract you signed when you moved here, under "Exceptions".  It's Article 5-E, Section 181-c*2.

People are allowed, for a period not to exceed that of the storm itself, to look strangers in the eye, smile at them, greet them, and even converse with them.  Don't worry, once the Nor'easter has passed, it's back to being mean.

I don't know how many people I've stopped and chatted with over the past several hours.  You go into shops caked in snow, and — imagine! — people are nice to you.  It's unheard of in almost any other kind of weather (there are clauses for "icy bombs," "slithering rocks," "whirlwinds of fire" and "bloody rains," too, but those are hardly ever enforced). 

Of course if you're stuck sitting in traffic, you wouldn't know this, and it's pretty much all irrelevant anyway.  So, carry on.