You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.
The changing of the seasons.
It was 80 degrees on Friday. Saturday night it was in the 50’s.
30 degrees? That’s like a roller coaster of frozen death. It’s like Mother Nature’s cold heartless soul.
Temperatures plunging 30 horrifying degrees? You can have it.
Talk about shrinkage.
From sunshine and mimosas, to darkness and despair.
To my chagrin the Earth keeps revolving around the sun. Damn Earth.
People were confused. I saw soccer moms at the field bundled up like Saudi Arabian princesses. They wore woolly mammoth hats and gloves and layers of clothes that said “good bye lady shape.”
I also saw dumb dads wearing shorts and sandals with a sleeveless golf vest.
Not only is that a bad look almost anywhere but the 19th hole, but it affords you the same warmth of an ex wife at a child custody meeting.
“I thought that it might be warmer,” one dumb dad blurted out to nobody in particular.
I hate this time of year. There is an age old argument heat or cold? cold or heat?
I’ll take heat.
I’d rather sweat than shiver. I’d rather wipe my forehead than hug myself like a cabbage patch doll. I’d rather take clothes off than dress like the Michelin Man.
I have decided that I was a pirate in another life. Pirates are known for many things, robbing, plundering, cavorting, loud incessant belly laughs. I could have been the poster child.
And let’s face it. Pirates love heat. These swash bucklers sailed the sun washed Caribbean. The sky was filled with swirls of pastels and wise cracking parrots. The sunset was a warm smile toasting you with a Capt. Morgans rum.
Cold is bad. It shrinks and shrivels and causes pain from the tip of your nose to the ends of your toes.
You never hear about Pirates sailing the lakes of Minnesota or the frozen tundra of Antarctica.
I’m not saying you can’t rob and plunder and dance with wenches in Minnesota, but they will be wearing turtle necks and holding themselves so tightly in a Snugee you’ll think they were escapees from a mental ward.
So the weather is changing. Fall Foliage and new clothing styles and women forgoing the gym till Spring.
Great.
It reminds me that I want to move South of the Border where halter tops and sandals are king.
Give me the warmth, the sun, a celebration of a sunset where you stop to marvel at the Majesty of another rotation of life.
Winter? Shove it. Shovel it. Cram it.
And that is crazy.