They Promised Me Sun: A Michigander in Houston

Cue theme music: "That Don't Impress Me Much", Shania Twain

I’ve been here in Houston over a year now, which means I’ve encountered an entire round of “seasons” down here and so feel able, finally, to comment.

You promised me sun, guys.

(Side note: No, I won’t use that contraction if I can at all help it. I’ve been assured that it will sneak into my vocabulary soon enough while pop slips out, but I refuse to hurry either along. Back to the weather…)

Yes, sun. As far as I can tell, it’s been raining for two weeks now, with no end in sight. “Wait until summer,” you say. “You’ll get enough sun then.” Well, maybe. I do recall seeing the sun in summer, but then I did in Michigan as well. Okay, granted, Michigan’s summer is shorter, mainly because Houston skips such things as autumn and spring and only gives a passing nod to the concept of winter by turning chilly and rainy for a month and a half. These people issue freeze warnings that are measured in hours, for crying out loud. I have to admit, though, I was rather startled last summer to have rain come pouring down from a clear blue sky. Wow, thought I. Self, this is SUN! Little did I know about rain. And more rain. It seems Houston gets rain like the Yoopers get snow. They take flash flood warnings seriously down here.

I think it is finally time for me to address Things Houstonians Don’t Understand.

Weather

• Seasons: namely spring and fall. Well, winter, too, but that’s because winter seems to be the nastier parts of fall without the colors. Just FYI, guys, spring is when snow melts and everything blooms. Suddenly, as in overnight. And yes, 50 degrees is shorts weather if it’s been 20 for two weeks.
• Snow. You people can tell me the date it last snowed. Enough said.
• Tornadoes: they really aren’t that bad, if you have a basement (see below). On the other hand, there is something to be said for living in hurricane territory. Call it a draw.

Food

• Anything but Tex-Mex. Right, I won’t try to defend Chi-Chi’s or La Senorita, but goodness. You’ve never heard of paczki??
• Mackinac Island fudge. You don’t even know where Mackinac Island is, so this isn’t necessarily surprising, merely tragic.
• Pasties.
• Faygo and Vernors. I can’t imagine growing up without Redpop and Rock N Rye, but I love watching you people tear up when you taste real ginger ale.
• Bill Knapp’s, though they’re now out of business. What I wouldn’t give for one of their chocolate birthday cakes…

Shopping

• Jacobson’s, another icon now gone. I’ve yet to find a store that fills the same niche down here; where does everyone’s mother shop, have lunch, and get her hair done down here?
• Meijer’s. Forget Super Walmart, people; you’ve never seen anything quite like Meijer’s. It’s not only a store, it’s an institution, a verb (Meijering), and an adventure at 3AM.
• Farmer Jack, and I only add this in because of their insidious jingle. Actually, I’m rather jealous of anyone who’s never had their ears assaulted by “It’s always savings time at Farmer Jack’s!”

Geography

• Don’t laugh when I give you directions on my hand. I’d like to see you do better.
• The Bridge. When referred to as such, it is obviously the Mackinac Bridge, which joins the Upper and Lower Peninsulas of Michigan (yep, we’ve got two). The only exception is if you’ve just said you’re going over to Windsor (that’s Canada, you Southerners), and then it’s probably the Ambassador Bridge.
• The Great Lakes. There’s more than one and there’s another country on the other side of most of them, so please specify.
• Yes, Detroit’s mostly north of parts of Windsor. Get over it.
• Have you ever heard of Pictured Rocks? Sleeping Bear Dunes? Can you even pronounce Sault Ste. Marie?

Construction

• Basements. I know they’re unpractical down here since the water table’s at about two inches, but they’re so handy!
• Draining pools. Okay, I know it only gets cold for a few weeks and (this is the weird part) they’d pop out of the ground if you tried, but it seems odd to never drain and cover one’s pool.
• Putting appliances like heating, cooling, and water heaters in the attic seems to be begging for trouble. One loose connection and you’ve got a soggy ceiling. Of course, you don’t have a basement to put them in, so I suppose you’re out of luck.
• Yards, and this is probably an urban thing rather than Texan, but frankly what you call a good size lawn we’d call a postage stamp where I grew up.

Flora

• Grass. I’m sorry, but what you’ve got on your lawn feels like plastic. Astroturf’s all well and good except on the feet. Get some real grass and then we’ll talk.

• Christmas trees and pumpkins. Neither naturally spring up spontaneously in vacant lots around the holidays. Again, this is probably an urban thing, at least in the case of the trees.
• Palm trees. Granted, they look kind of cool, but if you must plant them outside their natural habitat, at least water the things. Dead palm trees look crappy.

Culture

• Hockey. I almost missed the Stanley Cup playoffs last year, because most of you didn’t know what they were. Honestly. (And no, I don’t think anyone really knows all the rules for hockey. Don’t worry about it.)
• Deer hunting season: close but no cigar. You do realize Opening Day is a holiday, right?
• Canadians. Actually, Houston understands them better than most because of the enclave around NASA (space robotics), but unless you’ve watched the Red Green show a lot, you still think of them as Yankees who say “eh” a lot. Little do you know.

There are good things about living in Texas. It’s pretty pointless for me to write about them, though, since any Texan will start listing them for you at the drop of a Stetson. Of course, many of them will include things like rodeo, two-stepping, and country music, so perhaps a Michigander’s winnowing of the list might be valuable. Perhaps next time, when the sun comes out.