There's no such thing as bad weather

Nobody really thinks about buying a new pair of gloves until you’re taking the trash dumpster to the end of the driveway and you get hit by a cold front that was supposed to arrive no later than suppertime. But here it is three hours early, leaving nothing but an icy mess and frozen tear drops in its wake.

You’re sure you have some old gloves — the Eddie Bauer fleece Windcutters you got one Christmas way back in the late 1900s. Now where did you stash them? Oh. Here they are. With busted seams and holes in the fingertips, they’re not much better than nothing. It’s time to start shopping for a new pair. The temperature ain’t getting any warmer.

The worst time to go shopping online for cold weather apparel is in the middle of cold weather. It’s like going to the grocery store on an empty stomach. You’re so hungry, you’ll take two of everything. And now that you’ve found a pair of gloves that might be suitable, you might as well buy three more and a few pairs of Nordic socks. If your feet are cold, it doesn’t matter how warm your hands are. Buying a pair of new socks would be a no brainer.

Did your head feel a little cool as you were pulling that trash dumpster? Well, come to think of it, it did. Why not throw in some new hats? Beanies, perhaps. Not teenie weenie beanies. Something more substantial and handmade by little old Norwegian knitters. They know how to survive in weather like this.

“There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing.”

Nobody’s really sure where that quote came from. An Icelander? A Finn? It doesn’t matter. Everybody has heard a version of it. And now you’re wondering if it’s really true. Maybe you should put it to the test. Put on every bit of clothing you have, traipse back up the driveway to the dumpster — 300 steps to be exact — and see if it feels like you’re taking a stroll around the block on a sunny Autumn afternoon. If not, then find the chinks in your Under Amour and shore up the gaps.

No long johns? You might as well stop the test right here and…now wait a minute. Didn’t you have…? Yes! Here’s the top. Now, where’s the bottoms? No matter. Your legs usually stay warmer than the rest of your body. The test is back on.

So, out you go looking like the Michelin Man. You slowly ease yourself down the front steps (no need to break a hip), and step into a slushy hole of mush. Wet shoes, wet socks, wet toes. First chink in your armor. Need better shoes.

“Now just where do you think you’re going?” you hear someone say through a slightly cracked open front door. Whoever asked the question is smarter than you. And warmer.

“I’m testing my layering system to see if I have what it takes to survive a winter like a Minnesotan — jumping into icy water for fun; having barbecue parties on the deck during a snow storm; skiing to the grocery store.”

“Well, in that case, you forgot a trash bag. You can drop it in the dumpster while you’re trying to find your inner polar bear.”

Twenty minutes later, you have a list of all the items you need to make it through the winter like a true Midwesterner who doesn’t blink an eye at walking five miles to work in flip-flops through six feet of snow. Unfortunately, the weather is making havoc with mail delivery. You’re not going to get any of your items until June.

Oh, my love, the coffee maker's broke

Oh, my love, the coffee maker's broke.

It will not drip, it will not brew.

Oh, dear love, the coffee maker's broke.

I do not know what we will do.

And if it's broke tomorrow still,

how will, my love, we start our day?

On tea, perhaps? Or orange juice?

There has to be another way.

We could try instant for a while,

my love, I know it's not the same.

Or maybe we could do without.

You're right. That'd clearly be insane.

But have no fear, this won't last long.

Our coffee will flow free again.

I'll buy a new machine, my love,

and have it here today by 10.

I'm officially now a KERA...

KERA 90.1 FM. My preferred public radio station.

 

To dream the impossible dream

Last Thursday, I was chosen to be Richard Feynman’s personal assistant. Feynman, who was a Nobel Prize-winning theoretical physicist who lectured at the California Institute of Technology during the mid 1900s, died in 1988. So of course, I was just having a dream. But still, for my subconscious to honor me with such a position, knowing full well I didn’t understand a lick of mathematics or physics, was a dream come true. When I woke up, the whole thing seemed a bit wacky.

As Feynman’s personal assistant, I was in charge of making sure he had everything he needed (coffee, pencils, etc). I also attended every lecture he presented, including one where he kept repeating himself.

I noticed it right away. I’m sure members of the audience that had paid a pretty penny to hear him speak noticed it, too. But HE seemed not to. I tried to get his attention to see if anything was wrong, but he was ignoring me. And he kept repeating himself. Members from the audience were now starting to leave. I tried to get his attention, but he was still ignoring me. He kept repeating himself and repeating himself until everybody was gone … and I was fully awake.

I had fallen asleep with earbuds still in my ears. I had been watching a short Insta-Face video clip of Feynman sharing his thoughts on things I didn’t understand. There’s no telling how many times it cycled through, him saying the same thing over and over and over again.

At that exact moment, I transformed into Tevye the Dairyman from the musical “Fiddler on the Roof.” I turned to my wife, Golde (played in this rendition by my loving wife, Susan), and told her I had just woken up from a dream I didn’t understand. Golde then said: “Tell me what you dreamt and I’ll tell you what it meant.” 

I told her my dream, and this is how she interpreted it: “The dream means you fear trying to make your own sourdough starter — which most people do at first — but with a little love and attention, you too will discover the pathway to beautiful bread made from a sourdough starter — which most people fear trying to make at first — but with a little love and attention, you too will discover the pathway to beautiful bread made from a sourdough starter — which most people fear trying to make at first — but with a little love and attention…”

Did you noticed she was repeating herself? I did, too. At least it was about bread making and not about washing my hands or taking out the trash, then washing my hands after I’ve taken out the trash, sometimes washing my hands before AND after I take out the trash. I guess I must have woken, swiped to a different Insta-Face video clip, then fallen back asleep to endless repetitions of someone saying how wonderful it is to make your own sourdough starter.

Just as she was about to repeat herself about what most people fear trying, I was rudely awakened by a dog licking my ear. It’s six o’clock? C’mon, just a few more minutes.

Later that morning, over a cup of coffee, I told my wife about my dreams and asked her what she thought? Could she be my Golde and tell me what my dreams meant?

“It means,” she said, “you need to stop watching those videos when you’re trying to go to sleep.” 

“Either that,” I responded, “or I need to watch more bedtime videos and learn by osmosis on the best ways to convince you that I need to buy a boat, or a new grill. Yes?” 

She shook her head, “Keep dreaming.”