I hate getting shocked

Since writing my last post about things I love and miss about Florida and things I love and hate about Kentucky, I realized I forgot to include THE most important thing that I miss about Florida.

This is very serious so please don't mistake my sarcasm for lack of devotion.

I am serious here. This post is 100% straight from the heart.

What do I miss about Florida THE MOST? I miss, not getting shocked.

Floridian family and friends reading my blog, do NOT even try it. Don't even try to say, "Oh I get shocked sometimes." (And no, Ray, I am not talking about getting shocked while doing your electrical work.) My friend Kelsey (See Kelsey, I worked you into my blog again oh loyal blog reader) ... anyways, my friend Kelsey says that people try to find common ground with the fact that she grew up in a town of 15,000 by saying, "Oh my town only had 15,000 people in it." As Kelsey explains, when you live in rural Wyoming and your town of 15,000 is the only town in 60 miles in any direction, it's a little different than living in a town of 15,000 in a suburb of Chicago.
But nonetheless, people try to pretend they understand.

That's how I feel about being shocked. I don't want my Caribbean compadres posting a comment that says, "Oh Wendi, I get shocked a lot too." Don't do it! That is like people telling Kelsey they understand what it is like to live in a town of 15,000. That is an attempt to find common ground where there is no common ground. "Florida shocks" do not compare to what I found when I moved to the Polar North and that MUST be understood before I continue with this post.

If you have not lived in the Polar North, you do NOT know what I am talking about and you cannot begin to possibly understand how much I HATE this part of living in the cold.

I wonder if everyone living in the North gets shocked as much as I do or if the light switches, sheets, door handles, chairs, file cabinets etc. KNOW that I have Floridian blood and they can target me relentlessly. I mean, maybe it's just that my lack of knowledge has created a woman who doesn't understand physics. (Is getting shocked related to physics? I think so.) Maybe all Northerners were taught how to avoid this annoying pain as children. Maybe they are taught how to avoid shockings the way Floridians are taught to avoid sunburns.

Even worse than your hand getting shocked is your FACE getting shocked.

I like to kiss my husband. I really do. But in the winter, I refuse to kiss him without touching everything else in sight before his face comes near my face. There is nothing worse than noses or lips being shocked. It sucks! I am sure people get a real kick out of seeing John and I kiss as we both start touching walls and doors and whatever else will ground us before we kiss. Kissing is not a spontaneous activity in the Polar North. You must carefully plan how you can ground yourself before the kiss takes place.

So I did a search online to get advice on how to avoid this annoying occurrence and to no surprise, the advice was running rampant. Of course, the obvious advice is illustrated in the statement below:

TIP OF THE DAY:
During the winter the dry air and combination of non-leather shoes combine to create discharges of static electricity when you grab door handles and other surfaces. Advice: Let something else get shocked! Before touching a door handle, grab a metal object, such as your metal watch band or a car key, (make sure your touching the metal object of the key and not the plastic portion), and then touch the door with it. In most cases you will even see a metal spark fly between the door handle and your metal object. Now you can safely touch the door handle.

The thing is, I try this. I really do. First of all, that's a lot to think about prior to opening a door. Who analyzes door opening anyway? Secondly, in my case, it just doesn't seem to matter. Shocks jump out of nowhere -- when I am least expecting them. They are everywhere! All the "grounding" in the world doesn't seem to prevent continual tiny flashes of lightning.

Sometimes I get shocked so many times in such a short period of time that I literally sigh heavily in frustration and mumble something like, "For crying out sideways, can you leave me alone?" Or I say "Blasted!" I say "Blasted!" a lot. It's my exchange for a cuss word and really helps me feel better. My brain actually imagines the shocks are alive when I get mad at them -- like little animals, simply waiting to feed on their prey.

And unfortunately, in the Polar North, the hunting season (aka "shock season") lasts for a very long time as we are nearing May and still having 30 degree mornings.

So okay, there it is. Floridians, don't pretend that your town of 15,000 is anything like Kelsey's Wyoming neighborhood. And don't pretend you "get shocked a lot too." Come visit for one week in the winter and you will see what I am talking about.

Speaking of visiting in the winter, no one does! We get tons of visitors from May through August and then, no one comes anymore. Why is that anyways? Hmmmm ... maybe you all understand the frustrations of shocks! So do I!