For the past four days it’s done nothing but rain here in Philadelphia.

Now grant it, it’s also been cold, but even if you extracted the cold the people here would still fear and complain about the rain, because they do even in the summer.

I’ve spent part of my life in Florida. So if I allowed rain to affect me, I’d never leave the house.

However, I think most people here believe they’re made of marzipan, therefore whenever it rains an overwhelming paralyzing fear descends upon them that they’ll somehow melt on the sidewalks; creating human puddles of sugar and almond paste.

The first year I moved back to Philly, a friend of mine phoned me in a tizzy on the morning we were getting together for lunch and said, “OMG Ron…we’ll have to cancel our plans for lunch today.”

And I said, “Why?

He said, “Because the weather forecast says it’s going to rain.”

I responded, “Yeah….so what?”

He responded, “Oh….but we’ll get WET”

And it wasn’t only him because I soon discovered that many people here put their lives on hold whenever it rains.

Quite frankly, I don’t get it. What’s the big deal about rain? What do you think an umbrella is for? And even if you do get a little wet, you‘re not going to die for god sake.

My life is certainly not going to be altered because of RAIN.

And I especially look forward to when winter arrives, because if you think rain bothers them, you should see what a little snowfall does.

The first sign of snow in the forecast, Philadelphia calls Russia in a state of panic; asking for emergency assistance in snow plows, Siberian huskies, and dog sleds. And mind you, for the past three years we’ve had virtually 3-4 days of snowfall all winter long.

For a city that is so full of machismo, it fears the weather forecast as if it were Nostradamus predicting the end of the world.

There is only one word I can say to describe Philadelphia when it comes to the fear of precipitation…