Freeze!
Welcome to the Weekend Gene Pool, where I ask for your anecdotes in return for entertainment. Today’s question, as the ice storm approaches: Have you ever been in conditions of intense cold or heat? What was it like?
The coldest I have been was in Savoonga, Alaska, in the dead of winter on an island in the Bering Sea, reporting a story about an Eskimo community that was literally dying of boredom.
This is from the piece:
“Thermometers mean little to Savoongans because in this treeless island village, wind is a constant irritant; on that first day, we were informed, it was “30.” That meant minus-5, adjusted by wind chill to minus-30. In Savoonga, in winter, the “minus” is a given.
“There is no real way to prepare, physically or mentally, for 30 below. You can dress as warmly as you think appropriate, with long johns and woolen socks and layers of fleece and a sturdy parka and a ski cap, and then you step out into it and you realize that, in the words of Roy Scheider in “Jaws,” you need a bigger boat. When we’d first landed, photographer Michael Williamson and I left the plane for two minutes to photograph the unloading of cargo, then we scurried back aboard. With barely a word to each other, but exchanging slightly stupefied glances, we slipped on full-face balaclavas and thick gloves and eye goggles and a second layer of hat.
“And soon we were actually walking in it, heading out to explore the village. Thirty below is opportunistic. If you accidentally leave a slit between chin and Adam's apple, 30 below works its way in and moves down and around in a darting shiver, like the icy hands of a pickpocket. To take photographs, Michael had to remove his goggles, freezing his eyebrows, as he put it, ‘in a permanent state of astonishment.’ Your first lesson, then, is to expose nothing.”
They are a taciturn people. You have to coax them to reveal anything about themselves. They are smart, friendly, and numb.
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So, that’s your challenge. Tell us about any experiences you’ve had in extremes of temperature. Interesting is good. Interesting and funny is better.
Send your stuff here:
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Good. Today’s Gene Pool Gene Poll:
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I have a balky back. I don’t want to shovel. Will you come and shovel for me? No? Well, then you could at least send me some money…
From the Mailbag:
Q: You want your readers to see this. It’s great.
A: Agreed.
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Q: Here is a bad headline story from when I was editor of a suburban Cincinnati weekly in the 1950s. On a routine two-graf, boy-girl engagement article from the father of a girl in the hamlet of Pleasant Plain, Ohio, I slapped this hed: “Pleasant Plain Girl to Wed.”
The dad called, furious. Only after the issue reached my hands did I see the problem. I let the matter ride after a brief, apologetic conversation with the dad. What I didn’t write was the first retraction that came to mind, saying the bride was neither pleasant nor plain.
A: Thank you.
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Q: This is Sean Clinchy, and this is one of the greatest headlines of all time.
A: Also agreed.
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We’re done for the day. Please send more to the Mailbag:
"I don’t want to shovel."
C'mon, Gene, you shovel it all the time.
Here’s my semi-known hack: smear a thin layer of Vaseline on your face, which should be your only marginally exposed skin. The Vaseline keeps the moisture in your skin, and protects it from windchill.
I lived in South Minneapolis for sixteen years, and ran year-round. As long as I had a good base layer, wind pants and jacket, hat, mitts (not gloves) and Vaseline on my face, I could run miles and miles without discomfort. The key is to keep moving but avoid breaking a sweat— after awhile the moving keeps you just warm enough. I would start a run with a bandana on my face but it would ice over as I got warm, and after I pulled it down the Vaseline kept my skin alive even in -70 windchills.
Thank you for a reason to remember those years for a happy reason. Enjoy your shiny greasy Vaseline faces!