Welcome to town. My name is Glynn, and I'll be your tour guide for the week. Please step this way.
If any of you are not visiting for the golf but are reading this at your kitchen table or computer because you already live here, I'm a bit late in welcoming you to town. I know you'll forgive me because I hope to show the newcomers on this tour how great you residents are. Well, that, and to explain our weather to them.
You locals know all about our weather, don't you? You understand that if the area's weather had been forced to fill out a census form, the Big Computer in Washington would have rejected the results and sent a team of jack-booted thugs down here to find the culprit.
Like other outsiders, they would find it difficult to comprehend our climate.
I see someone has a question. What? You think you have quirky weather back home? Maybe you do, but not so much of it.
If you don't like the weather now, wait 15 minutes and it will be totally different: That expression is cliché by now, but we actually have it copyrighted.
For instance, the calendar says it's spring, and as I wrote this on Friday, it was approaching 90 degrees and sunny. This week, as spring edges closer to summer, you might find yourself wondering why you didn't wear long sleeves or a jacket. Or brought an umbrella. You might be perplexed that you had to run your car's heater and air conditioner on the same day.
Speaking of cars, let me explain why we all drive yellow vehicles here. It's not a consensus; it's pollen. Pollen is an important part of nature, but nowhere else does nature place it so high on its list of ingredients.
How bad is the pollen here? It merits its own entry in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, although you probably didn't know that if you used a road map or airline schedule to get here.
The flip side of pollen's natural importance is its economic impact. Almost single-handedly, it gives our medical workers something to do at the many hospitals and clinics we are famous for. It is a stimulus package for pharmacies and the tissue aisle at the supermarket.
In that respect, I suppose pollen could be seen as a cash crop.
The financial benefit of the pollen is just one of the great things about living here. It's difficult for us to complain, really, because we have drinkable water, a low cost of living and friendly people.
We do have lots of warm weather -- some subdivisions on the sun are cooler -- but then, this is the South, and we knew that when we moved here or were born here and decided to hang around.
We did have a snowstorm this year. (To be honest, I think it was more of a snow shower; my snowman hardly had a chance to take a breath before he started sweating and imploded.)
Truly bad weather usually bypasses us on its way east, where it settles on the unfortunate folks in South Carolina instead.
So what if local residents listen to The Four Seasons concertos and question Vivaldi's math?
A winter that lasts only three days is still winter. Officially.
I would wager that the people in Oklahoma, California, the Midwest and New England would trade their blizzards and forest fires and earthquakes and tornadoes and floods for what we have.
You're the visitor: You make the call.