Michiganders love life and know how to live it.  The snow has been falling for four days and I am landlocked.  Not the Michiganders because they do the S’s.  Michigan is a winter wonderland for them.  They go skiing, ice skating, sledding, build snowmen, go on sleigh rides, snowmobile,  gaily throw snowballs at each other, shoot deer, sing Frosty the Snowman, shovel their sidewalks with spiritedness, and lie to their children about Santa Claus.  

In summer, they swim, snorkel, sunbathe, scuba dive, go sailing, build sandcastles, swing high on the backyard swing, start studying Spanish, skip rocks in the river, and then, just to rub it in to crabby guys like me, the men send romantic poems to their girl friends that start something like this: 

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?                     

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date. 

Listen, you dirty rats. We Noo Yawkers know fun, too.  In winter, I sit up in bed, look out at the blizzard and curse it.  Then I pull the blanket over my head.  In summer, I whine over the inadequate air conditioning.  It’s not glamorous but it is all I need.