So -- we're heading north on I-5 through Portland in a torrential rain. There is standing water in the traffic lanes, foggy mists of water thrown up by the big rigs, and waves of water sheet the windshield when other drivers speed through huge puddles. I'm white-knuckle driving with thoughts of hydroplaning dancing in my head. The radio is tuned to K103 because they play Christmas songs all month up to the Big Day. During yet another holiday song about a lovely, snow white Christmas I comment to my mother as I turn up the fan on the defroster: "Ever notice they never sing about a wet, rainy Christmas?"
Ah, the lovely Pacific Northwet. Er, northwest. Makes it difficult to get into the holiday mood when you're slip slidin' away without a surf board.
Of course, when we did have a rare, record-breaking white Christmas a couple of years ago it pretty much brought everything to a standstill. On the wet side of the Cascades, that is. Everyone on the east side of the mountains gets their jollies watching us wetsiders maneuver (not!) in the snow and ice.
But those of us living in the temperate regions aren't the only ones feeling a little out of step with the whole white Christmas scenario. Palm trees and tropical breezes are also incongruous with Dickensian carolers wrapped up in mufflers.
Actually, Christmas Day in the Willamette Valley will likely be dry and mild. And green. We get by without the "traditional" white Christmas. After all, our wet winters produce a goodly portion of the world's Christmas trees.