“Confessions of a Foul-Weather Magnet,” April 24, 2012

Once again, I did not bring an umbrella. Or a coat. Or a hat or scarf or gloves or snow boots. Or a rope to tie down my goat.
For the record, I don’t own a goat. It’s an expression I grew up with. Where I come from, if winds exceed average velocity, it’s time, figuratively speaking, to go out and tie down your goat. Even if you don’t own one.
Had I owned a goat and brought it with me this week (to the Carolinas, Virginia and Tennessee) it probably would have blown out to the Atlantic.
I am a meteorological magnet for unseasonable weather. I should be a travel icon on www.weather.com. Before going anywhere, you could click on me to determine whether, God help you, I might be going there, too.
In which case, you should cancel your plans and stay the heck at home. If you must go, at least, go prepared: Pack warm clothing. Say goodbye to your loved ones. And take a minute to update your will.
If you follow in my wake, you can count on a bumpy ride. Just ask any of my former friends.
I’ve attracted dust storms in the desert. Torrential rains in Mexico. Tornados in Indiana. Hurricanes in the South. And enough snow to make Santa hang up his boots and put his reindeer out to pasture.
Years ago, I was assigned by the newspaper I worked for, to host readers on a cruise through the Mediterranean. All was well until the night we were beset by an unexpected storm with 90 mph hour winds and 25 foot seas. Waves were so rough I was tossed, I swear, out of bed. Twice. Folks were sick as dogs.
Remarkably, no one complained. Either they didn’t know about my reputation for attracting foul weather. Or they were too busy throwing up.
You would think by now, knowing what I know, that I’d never leave home without an umbrella and a life vest. What can I say? Some of us are slow to learn. And quick to forget.
Truth is, I’ve always believed the mark of a good outing is how little you have to take along.
When my children were small, I cultivated friends who were prepared for any possibility _ women who owned a vast array of Tupperware and would pack for a simple outing to the park like pioneers crossing the prairie in a covered wagon.
I liked those women a lot. Most anything I needed, I could count on them to pack. They made my life much easier.
But we can never truly be prepared for everything. Not weather. Not people. Not life.
Why not skip all the heavy lifting and travel light?
I just spent a few days speaking in Bristol, Tenn., and Bristol, Va., two lovely cities divided by a state line, but united by a lot of good people.
When I arrived, it was cloudy, but balmy, typical late April weather. By nightfall, the forecast was rain mixed with snow, gusty winds and near freezing temperatures.
I put on everything in my suitcase and sat on the heater in my hotel room, watching rain flecked with snow make little pock marks on the pool.
But weather didn’t hamper the turnout or dampen the spirit at the cities’ Mayors’ Awards of Distinction ceremony, or at the gathering the next day at the public library, a wonderful facility shared by both cities.
People showed up smiling, as they always do, to welcome a stranger to their midst and make her feel right at home.
I have learned to rely on the kindnesses of strangers, to bask in their warmth and take shelter in all that we share in common, and to be reminded, lest I ever forget, that we are far more alike than we are different in the everyday matters of the heart.
But it probably wouldn’t hurt me to pack an umbrella. And maybe a pair of socks.

 

Comments

  1. Judy Bailey says:

    Sharron, you were like a ray of sunshine as you shared life with us at the Mocksville Woman’s Club fundraiser. The laughter and warmth of your words touched our hearts. And you certainly know how much we need that in our lives. I suppose that is why we love your column…as you said, “we do find pieces of ourselves in your words”. Joy and sadness…comforting to know others have been there, too. Wishing God’s blessings upon you as you travel the road of “Nana”…take it from me, it is a wonderful journey!
    Enjoy life and heed your own words…find a little time for yourself every now and then…I’m learning it is okay to do that 🙂
    Signed: Your Photographer of the day ~ Judy
    By the way, you only blinked one time…but it’s okay. I simply cut your head out of a good photo and pasted it on the the eyes closed one…perfect!

  2. Sue says:

    We are driving thru the rain to Mocksville to hear you speak this evening —
    Being a ‘sister’ in the ‘Bad Weather Magnet’ club, I will be bringing a pair of socks to you —

  3. Larry Honaker says:

    Sharon it was a pleasure meeting you at the Paramount in Bristol om April 22nd. Sorry that the weather was glummy, but I must say that you brought us sunshine. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us. Now whenever I read your column I have a voice to coneect with it. By the way I want to thank you for being my lucky charm. Even though I skip staying home and watching the Nascar race, I found out after leaving Bristol that I had won the race pool at my workplace. If you’re ever in town again would you accompany me to the nearest convient store to purchase a lottery ticket? That day I was a winner all around, because the race money padded my pocket, but also your stories brought worth memories of stories that came from “Home” from all the “liars” in my family. That put a smile on my face.

  4. Helga says:

    I’m sorry I missed you. We were out of town this weekend and then on Monday I had to work. I would have loved to meet you. I am a faithfull reader of your column in the Bristol Herald Courier. Maybe more luck next time.

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