Play in the snow.
You must already think I'm crazy. More than 20 years of my life were spent in Minnesota: seven in Richfield, 10 in Rosemount and four at the University of Minnesota. (Go, Gophers!) I played hockey in the winter, baseball in the summer, swam in Brainerd lakes and grumbled about the weather just like every other hard-blooded true Minnesotan, who, despite being shaken to the bone every winter, would refuse to ever leave.
Then came graduation. B.A. in economics (thank you, Dr. Sahi) and I was off to work in large banking in Charlotte, N.C. As I sit here and write this on the eve of 2016, it is 68 degrees with humidity of 88 percent, and I hear there is a lot of snow back home.
All I want right now is 30 degrees and snow. Again, you think I'm crazy. But there is reason to my madness.
Growing up, all I did in the winters was strap on my boots, puffy jacket and snowpants, build snowmen and throw snowballs at the girls on the street. Yes, I was that kid. I spent hours freezing my toes on rinks with my good buddies whom I sorely miss. I sledded, I ice fished, I took in all that fresh air.
What's the point of the story? There are two.
1) Minnesota gives you the best of both worlds. You experience beautiful summers and equally beautiful winters. Don't get me wrong. I love my 70-degree weather, but there is something to be said for variety, and man, I miss those rosy cheeks and ice skates; don't take it for granted.
2) Snow is better than Netflix, Xbox One, Snapchat or Facebook. If I look back at everything that makes me miss Minnesota, not once do I think about sitting inside, unless it was by the fire to warm up my toes over a nice cup of cocoa.