Winter Blahs and Musings

When I lived in northern Vermont, winter shocked and amused me. Who knew that antifreeze could freeze? Somehow, in my late-20s and early 30s it seemed romantic when chimney smoke made a right hand bend because it couldn’t cut through the layer of cold air hovering 50 feet above the chimney. I recall cross country skiing and being surprised that I could be sweating in -10 Fahrenheit.

 

I moved to Western Massachusetts before I turned 40 and it felt like Miami. My best friend Dominique and I  used to sit outside of our favorite cafes in winter back then. Our personal best was slurping java and slinging BS when it was + 17 degrees. Now I wonder, at what age do we begin to feel the pain of cold weather. I see young ‘uns  pop into Woodstar Café in shorts or tiny skirts when it’s in the 20s and think, “Are they nuts?” From the comfort of a warm seat inside, of course, where BS is still slung.

 

Winter and I are no longer friends, but I can’t remember when that happened. I’ve become bear-like it my desire to hibernate. When my alarm rings to alert me I am joining friends for coffee at 8:30, I roll over and think, “It can’t possibly be 6:45 already.”  Then I begin to contemplate how cold and dark it is outside, and how much I love my pillow.

 

Winter is good for musing; I’ll give it that. I’ll bet you wonder what I think about on cold day. Maybe you don’t, but I’ll to tell you anyhow. Here’s a sampling from the past week. Such heavy thoughts often inspire a nap.

 

·      How is it that squirrels disappear from my lawn for days when it snows, but show up minutes after I refill the bird feeders?

 

·      How can the worst coffee in the world call itself Seattle’s Best?

 

·      Shouldn’t there be a law against calling something the best, greatest, finest, boldest, or improved? I’ve never once been asked to weigh in on such momentous assertions. Have you? 

 

·      I don’t know why the USA is so resident to switching to the  metric system. Is there an American alive that can’t tell the difference between a one liter and a two liter bottle of Coke? Besides, I much rather say I’m 160.02 cm tall than 63 inches.

 

·      Before Trump decides to take over Greenland, the Orange Tub should consider that Ozempic is made in Denmark.

 

·      I have four guitars and a ukulele. When I shuffle off this mortal coil I’m sure some wag will conclude I collected strings and straps.

 

·      Speaking of mortality, isn’t it bad enough that we have think about it as we get older? Must we put up with other stuff related to aging—like dry skin, rashes, wonky knees, and losing height? Plus, we develop personal quirks.  Mine is that the neural pathways connecting my hands and my brain apparently have been severed. If I pick up something and put it down, I’ve no idea where I deposited it and only the vaguest memory of having handling said object. I recently “lost” my favorite coffee thermos. I located it in the garage where I must have set it down to do something else.

 

·      Oh yeah, there’s memory. I have an idea for a TV show. Ask yourself, “What is the point of a TV show?” If you guessed anything as naïve as quality entertainment, you’re not even in the ballpark. It’s selling commercials, of course.  A show called Senior Jeopardy would rake in profits. You take three oldsters and ask a question. Cut to the Jeopardy thinking music and then to three minutes of commercials. Then, return to the contestants to reveal their answers. First one to three wins. They might have to extend the broadcast to an hour for that to happen, but experience tells me that Americans will happily sit through the same brain cell-slaying commercials forever as longs as they don’t need to get up from the sofa. 

 

 

 

·      My only useful musing involved Mark Carney. Who’s he? The Prime Minister of Canada. He spoke to the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, last week. So did Trump, who gave an embarrassing speech about taking Greenland, crypto currency, and military might. I doubt he understood what Carney said. Here’s the speech: https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=mark+carney Gee, I wonder it’s like to be led by someone smart?

 

 

Rob Weir