You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy!™
Winter! I can’t stand it.
Gone are the days when I enjoyed sledding down an icy hill. Gone are the days when I looked forward to Santa sneaking down the chimney. Gone are the days when I would sit outside by the fire pretending I was a somewhat less hirsute Grizzly Adams.
Those days are gone. No more snow angels, snow mobiling, snow skiing.
Now I’m a modern day Frosty the snow-wuss, complaining at the first sign of frost on the ground. Where did the warmth go? The sun is in the sky, it still burns at 100 million degrees right? where the hell is all the heat? The sun is a liar. It shows me its warm face but it gives me none of the Fahrenheit I desire.
So as I sit here on this cold November day, lamenting the loss of heat, I think about my needs.
I’m inside and the wind is whistling through the window sill. It sounds like a cat in a paper shredder. It is angry and bitter.
To me, even the draft in this house is bothersome. It’s a chilled air current that blows across my skin like an icy cactus.
I look in the mirror and I see a guy dreaming of tropical breezes and white sand beaches. I see exotic drinks in my hand and a sign on the wall that reads: NO SHIRT NO SHOES NO PROBLEM
If I had my druthers, I’d be wearing an eye patch and have a parrot on my shoulder. Crap, as long as it was warm, I’d wear a peg leg for good measure. I’d let you do shots out of my peg leg if the sea was turquoise enough.
But on this day of frosty, whistling wind, I see none of the above. I feel a chill in the air and pain in my aging bones.
The sky is not friendly. It’s not that welcoming blue that says get out there and the cut the lawn with your shirt off.
No, today the sky is a mono chromatic grey. It looks like a Quentin Tarrantino movie where gunfire or long soliloquies could erupt at any moment.
I know a lot of you out there like winter. You like snow ball fights and ice skating and the changing of the seasons. Winter means Thanksgiving and families. Winter means Christmas and lights and decking the halls, whatever the hell that is.
Well, you can have it. Give me an all inclusive resort named SECRETS OR RUGBURNS OR TATER TOTS. Give me an island destination where nobody speaks proper English and they hand you more umbrella drinks than a human should consume before lunchtime.
Santa can swing into my bungalow from a palm husk. That works for me.
I see those Corona commercials and it makes me want to caress my flat screen. I want to jump on the Southwest web site and dream. I want to go anywhere the orange sun French Kisses an azure sea in a final moment of the day.
I want to to be on Expedia Dot Com and hit that button that says PURCHASE NOW.
I want to be free to roam around the country, but only if I don’t have to wear a shirt to do it.
I need sand and lobster and little island kids trying to sell me chicklets gum for a dollar.
How about a cruise ship you say? I don’t know. Kind of claustrophobic. I mean bigger is better, but how many buffet lines can you stand in? How many bouts with sea sickness can I stomach?
I’m putting on another sweat shirt and changing my screen saver to a Caribbean sunset. Maybe that will help warm me up.
On the other hand it’s kind of making me sad that the thermometer hasn’t even hit freezing yet, and I’m all ready bitchin.
I need to man up. I need to hang in there. it’s going to get a lot colder before it gets warmer. I mean, stay positive right, Spring is only 150 days away. Just 150 days.
Anyone got a house trained parrot I could borrow.
And that is crazy.