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Throughout the warm months of the year, I keep my quiet Minnesota stoicism packed away. But when the temperature drops and the first flakes fly, I take that hard-bitten attitude out of storage and put it on again like an old winter coat. Every year, it fits a little better.


I've lived in St. Peter for more than two decades now. And as a transplant from the South Side of Chicago, I don't always fit in. But when it comes to the cold, I've become a truly naturalized Minnesotan. I still moan and fulminate about it, but I accept it as a fact of life here. Just like everyone else.


I think back to my first years here, and how my relationship with winter was different then. I have vivid memories of the epic 

. I waded through the snow drifts trying to trick or treat with my 10-year-old son, Josh. His Davy Crockett costume was barely visible beneath the down jacket, ski cap, and winter boots. And his bag wasn't even an eighth of the way full when he peered at me, snow up to his waist and whispered, "Let's go home." I was happy to oblige.


But now the cold weather fits me like a glove. I've developed an outlook on the world that's common in these parts. The harsh winters don't just build our characters: They 

: We have met the coldest, harshest winters in the world, and they are us!


I'd like to believe that today I wouldn't turn back for home in a blizzard. Today, I'd trudge on -- hard-bitten, stoic and determined to get a few more pieces of candy out of the deal. After more than 20 winters, I'm willing to brave the howling storm, because this is how life really is up here. And more importantly, this is who we really are. Sure, I'll mutter a little and curse under my breath as I trudge -- but I'll do it quietly, stoically, just like the naturalized, true blue Minnesotan I am now.

 in St. Peter, Minnesota. An excerpt from his book "Stompin' at the Grand Terrace" was just republished as part of "Best Music Writing 2010."

In Minnesota, assimilation is measured in winters

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