I swore I wouldn't do it this winter. It's too easy to do. Everyone's doing it. I wanted to be different.
But I have to.
I can't resist.
I'm a broken man.
I'm angry. And cold. And fed up.
Here is my winter rant.
Oh how do I hate thee Wisconsin Winter of 2014? Let me count the ways.
- I hate the fact that the 40 mph wind blowing my back screen door open last night made me get out from under sixty seven pounds of comforters to go and close it properly.
- I hate the fact that I was looking forward to the promise of temps in the 20's yesterday, only to have them squashed by hurricane winds and blinding sideways snow on my ride home last night.
- I hate, beyond reasonable, rational, healthy levels of emotion, those cursed inch-and-a-half snowfalls that have to be cleared every other day. What is with that anyways? It's like the clouds have prostate issues or something. If you're going to snow, snow already. These little snow sneezes are pissing me off.
- I hate that I can't even walk my dog around the block without him coming up limping at the 3/4 mark to the point where I have to carry his 20 lb carcass home. On some of the colder nights when we let him out back to go potty, he looks at us like "No thanks, I'm good."
- I hate the fact that I have to park my vehicles nose to nose "just in case" one of them gets an attitude and doesn't start.
- I hate the fact that I had to buy a new battery for my van. More than that, I hate the fact that when I bought a battery in 1981, it was $50 and came with a 5 year warranty and today when I bought one it was $120 and comes with a 3 year warranty. What, did the battery guys lose the secret formula?
- I hate my molting epidermis. Even my gums are dry. My skin flakes off like the dirt from Pigpen.
- I hate that the salt from my car somehow always finds its way to my winter coat, mittens, shoes and pants.
- I hate the sound of snowplows rattling my fillings while I lay blowing frost clouds in my room underneath my sixty seven pounds of comforters. Oh yes, I hate that.
- I hate waiting for the furnace to come on. Then, when it does, I hate that it's a dry heat. I've resorted to hissing at my cats when they sit in front of it, robbing me of my share. This is not healthy, well adjusted behavior for a man in his fifties.
- I hate that I have to wear long johns indoors.
- I hate that I enjoy going to work because at least it's not drafty.
- I hate my parka, my hat, my gloves, my boots, my Yak Traks, ice melt, ice scrapers, shovels, snow blowers and, yes, I even hate snowmen a little.
- I hate clouds because they mean either: A. I won't see the sun, or, B. Snow is imminent.
- I hate the sun because it means: A. A cold front is upon us...or coming, or, B. Snow is imminent.
- I hate having to manhandle my way into my van because the doors are frozen with a glaze of ice.
- I hate that my walks to work are not only dictated by the air temperature, but I have to figure in the godforsaken windchill. (i.e. How many minutes before my skin turns to beef jerky?)
- I hate that it's only January 25th and sometimes that means the worst is yet to come. Lord, have mercy.
- I hate that without wearing gloves, I cannot A. Put air in my tires. B. Change the song on my iPod. or C. Hold my dog's leash - without fear of frostbite.
- I hate the thought that in 10 months it all starts again
Now I know there's some of you out there who are thinking "Hate is a strong word, Jim," and others who say, "Why don't you make the best of it? Ski, skate, make snow angels."
To you I say, I will as soon as it hits 30 degrees again. I will dance, frolic, skip, skate and rejoice.
Until then, I'm going to be a hater.