seasons, schmeasons.

Ask anyone who lives in New England what they like most about it and nine out of ten of them will say "seasons." New Englanders love their seasons, yup, one two three four of them, all distinct and seasonal. Nothing like a good set of seasons. Variety, after all, is the spice of life.

Admittedly, autumn in New England almost lives up to the reputation. Crisp air and spectacular foliage, tinged with the certain knowledge that in a few short weeks everything will be dead and covered with frost, if not frozen solid.

Winter, of course, is to be expected...it is New England after all. Grey skies, lots of snow, and bitter cold; maybe not quite Minnesota cold, but cold enough that you don't want to be stuck outside waiting for the T. It's not that the winters here are really so bad; it's more that they can last for so long...from November right up through April. A lot of New Englanders make the best of it by skiing and snowboarding...but ask any of them and they'll tell you in a heartbeat how crummy the skiing is here compared to, say, Colorado.

Spring can occasionally be nice, but is usually just a brief, rainy segue into summer.

Summers here are absolutely wretched. It may not get quite as hot or humid as it does in the South, or stay that way for quite as long, but from May through September it can be plenty miserable. The situation is exacerbated by the utter and complete lack of air conditioning, a consequence of living in an area where the mean age of residential structures is about 100.

Say what you will about dumb redneck Southerners, but at least they have the sense to build houses with central air.

The kicker, though, is the weather people. Weather people in the South at least know the drill: "Yep, it's gonna be another hazy, humid, stinking hot day, so drink lots of water, stay inside, and put on sunscreen if you have to go out." Not so here. Here, the weather people get these big, stupid grins on their faces and gleefully tell us what a great summer day it's going to be, with temperatures soaring right up into the nineties, a great day to get out there and enjoy the sun. Although this is, of course, just an overreaction to having been cooped up by the snow for six months, I can't help but fantasize about dragging one of these grinning weather-person putzes out of their modern, air-conditioned TV studio and into the street to bake in the sun for an hour or two still dressed up in their expensive outfit, just to see them sweat.