Dear Dr. Simpson,
On behalf of my fellow students, welcome to Buffalo. We're glad to have you as our new president.
But honestly, you don't know what you're in for.
Have you checked the forecast lately? No, not the one for Santa Cruz, Calif. - your current town - that predicts sunny skies and highs in the 70's.
Our forecast. The one that calls for rain during the day and freezing temperatures at night all next week; snow by Halloween; and a full-scale blizzard from December to March.
With all due respect, what are you thinking?
While your old students relax on the boardwalk as the sun sets on an afternoon of surfing, your face will be freezing as you toil violently to scrape an inch-thick coat of ice off your windshield.
I'm sure somebody told you it's not really that bad. For some reason, we say that to everyone.
It's a bold-faced lie.
On the days our car couldn't navigate the piles of snow in the streets, my mom had to pull my brother and I to preschool on a sled. We carved mazes out of the mountains of snow in the backyard, and ski jumps out of the sides of hills in the park.
And that's just everyday stuff. When a real storm hits, they call out the National Guard.
Here's some advice to get you prepared.
On a blustery morning, your defroster will keep your windshield clear about as well as a candle would keep you warm. You'll want an ice scraper. When you go to Home Depot you'll see three kinds: A small one that's the size of a garden tool; a medium-sized one with a brush on the end; and then a huge one that's about the size of a shovel and can play DVDs.
That's the one you want.
Now if you need more helpful tips during the year, you can ask any of us. (Just don't ask a student from Long Island, who will recommend that you cope by dressing like it's summer and complaining all the time. This is not good advice.)
Our city is known for its foul winter weather not because we get more snowfall than other cities - actually, Rochester and Syracuse top us each year - but because we get hit when no one else does.
Our storm systems, like hurricanes, build over a body of water: Lake Erie. These systems, hit Buffalo with a vengeance and then fade as they move east.
The most epic lake effect storms are forecast a few days in advance. As the temperature drops and the sky gets darker, the city grows tense with anticipation.
Then the streets grow quiet and the snow appears out of the sky like the first notes of a symphony in a concert hall.
This is when the soul of Buffalo comes alive.
Schools let out early and yellow busses hurry through their routes to beat the storm. The Skyway closes. Downtown, the rows of windows in the office towers glow, barely visible, through the white wall of snow. On Main Street, the light rail chugs through the snowdrifts as it carries stranded office workers uptown.
Neighbors venture out into the streets to help those who are stuck. Non-essential travel is banned. Soon you look out the window and all you can see is white. Television reporters give hurried updates from other parts of the city, and a list of cancellations runs continuously on the bottom of the screen.
If there's a Bills game, a wall of clouds bears down on Ralph Wilson Stadium. When the snow hits, everyone stands, puts their arms around someone and sings "Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow" with Tony Bennett, while a plow clears the field.
By the time it's all over, everyone - your barber, your teacher, your auto mechanic, your cashier at Wegmans - has a story to tell about where they were.
So welcome to Buffalo, Dr. Simpson. You'll like this town. We have great people, excellent food, a proud history and a fine culture.
But I think you should be prepared.
Trade in your old surfboard for snow tires and get ready for our annual rite of passage.
Photo: Courtesy of Laron Fomby
