Tales from the tundra

“It is what it is”.

That’s the morning mantra I was hearing from fellow workers with the updated forecast of a negative 40 degree wind chill tomorrow and the promise of more black ice.

But our bikers, blinded by steamy wire rims and frosty mustaches, still were wowing workers with wheelies in the downtown intersections while waiting for the lights to change at noon.

And women were spotted strolling outside their office buildings, hatless and in heels, humming the chorus from “Let It Go”.

Frozen doesn’t seem to bother anyone out here much.

That’s just how we roll.

Or maybe I should say skate

Anyway, once it gets this cold in our fair city, there really is a sparkle of excitement in the air.

Even if it’s tinged with a little frostbite.

I noticed after work tonight the bright lights were shining on the local tv station next to my bus stop. I knew that meant the reporter with perfect hair was venturing outside to say hello.

She always does when the temps take a tumble out here in the tundra.

I stood together with the huddled mass in my wool cap, 2 pairs of mittens, three sweaters, and one ‘good to 40 below’ parka waiting for the show to begin.

The ravishing reporter joined us in her stylishly light coat and hat, wearing makeup that cracks when it freezes. She told tales to the camera of the ‘brutal cold’ for 60 seconds for a network news feed back to the big city in New York.

And then she was gone. Disappearing behind closed security doors into the warmth of her studio.

As for the rest of us, we stood silently in a biting wind, shivering some, waiting for our busses.

Not looking particularly stylish at all.

But we just let it go.

We always do.

After all, it’s just another winter.

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