When I was in Brownies, we would occasionally sing a special song in rounds: "Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other's gold."

As a kid, making friends comes naturally. As an adult -- not so much, and here in Seattle the natural human need for intimacy and camaraderie is complicated by what's been called the Seattle Freeze. That's affable on the outside but emotionally unavailable for anything other than elevator chitchat or an acknowledging nod.

I was alerted by a KIRO news e-mail that an interesting item had been published in the Perspectives of Psychological Science journal that studied five "key" personality traits (extraversion, agreeableness, conscientiousness, neuroticism and openness) in all 50 states and guess what? Washingtonians really are open/friendly as well as terribly aloof and introverted. Many have experienced this Nice/Ice syndrome and now it has been scientifically diagnosed. Personally, I see nothing wrong with being polite and nice on the surface -- bring it on. I say the more nice and polite, the better.

And, Seattleites, don't feel ashamed of your aloofness. Just because someone new in town chats with you over a malted adult beverage, you do not need to feel obligated to exchange e-mail addresses and/or phone numbers to secure another meeting. Seattle is constantly being fed newcomers who arrive with fresh hopes of "connecting" with others. They go out to bars and nurse microbrews hoping that they might meet someone, anyone, who is willing to take them under their wing. Instead, they slink home defeated by regular patrons who barely make eye contact. Eager transplants often find this human cold front puzzling, but if you are emotionally self-sufficient Seattle is the right place for you. If you actually prefer your own company to that of others, then you and Seattle will live happily ever after.

Folks from warmer climes will notice that the weather here calls for a good amount of clothing coverage. For nine months of the year we tend to wear two or three shirts with pants and socks and boots and coats. That has got to have something to do with our tendency to nurture the urge to keep to ourselves. Is there a neighbor on your street or in your building who never, ever says hello to you? Does it bug you? Too bad. Let it go. Don't take it as an intentional insult. Next time you have that extended conversation with someone on the bus, fight the urge to pass them your phone number. People with deep-rooted reserve don't like that type of behavior -- it seems too needy and is an instant turn-off.

Having lived through the Great Seattle Freeze of 1979, I can tell you firsthand that it does exist. As a 17-year-old, I arrived in Seattle from Los Angeles with a sunny outlook, armed with confidence and optimism as I entered my final year of high school. The student body was full of cold shoulders and it didn't take long for my fire to sputter almost to the point of fizzling out completely. Sensing my frustration, a school counselor kindly offered to set-up a "date" for me with three seemingly bubbly and friendly senior girls. I was reluctant but agreed.

"Hey girls, this is Cathy. She's new to the school -- do you think you could take her to the football game with you on Friday?"

This request was met with extremely blank stares before the smiles and "friendliness" kicked in. I felt so awkward, having never before needed a friendship broker but lucky me, they agreed to let me tag along. In the bleachers at the football game I was able to revive my old extroverted self only to never receive any friendly follow-up from those girls after that night. Ouch. It was at that point that the golden friends seemed way more valuable than the silver ones.

As a young adult I "grew up" in the Seattle comedy network and am pleased to say that the once silver friends I made in the early '80s remain and are now golden ones. It was never difficult to forge friendships within that extroverted bunch, so perhaps if all lonely newcomers were to get a three-minute open mike set together, they'd have better luck hitting the stage rather than the cafes, nightclubs and dog parks in their quest for companionship.

Cathy Sorbo is a Seattle comic who performs regularly at the Comedy Underground and writes columns for the Seattle P-I Her Web site is www.cathysorbo.com