Gillette's friends better buck up. They don't want to be riff-raff, do they? Because the weather keeps the riff-raff out. If you can't embrace winter, then GTFO. It snows here. It snows here in every month but one. (I forget if that's July or August, but whatever.) 

I'm from Chicago, where people think that they know winter. They don't know winter. I grew up thinking I had a spine, but turns out I never grew one til I spent my first two winters in Duluth (1994-1996), when I grew one made of un-meltable ice and granite, goddammit. You get the fuck out there, you play in the snow like your goddamned husky-dog (because if you have a dog that can't handle winter, then you're a goddamned fool, and you're only enabling your inner wuss if you look at those big, summer-dog eyes that plead "I can't pee outside cuz my feet will touch the snow!" and let them pee on a mat in your goddamned house like my neighbors), and you love it. If you can't love it, then the mayor shouldn't hug you (though that would be nice, wouldn't it?), he should give you a one-way ticket to Florida, where all the wimpy old people shuffle around and whine about it being a little overcast, because they're old. I know real northern old people who wouldn't dream of going to Florida, because they've got that northern blood which only gets a little chilled when it hits 20 below. They pile up that wood in their basement, and they warm up their soup on a wood stove and they love it here. If you can't do that, then, Duluth doesn't need you, and has been telling you that since about 1858. 

/my inner Ron Swanson