Homeopathy is an alternative medicine whose driving principle is similia similibus curentur. Or if your Latin’s a bit rusty, “like cures like.”

The idea is if a substance can cause specific symptoms in a healthy person, it can cure those symptoms in a sick one.

I don’t know if it works curing diseases of the body, but I hope I might see it work with a dread psychological disease we here know all too well — cabin fever.

I will attempt to do that by fighting blues with blues. That is, to combat the mid-winter blues, I’m helping put on Winter Carnival’s second Blue Buns Wheel-a-Palooza.

And what, you ask, is the BBW-a-P? According to Fodor’s, publishers of the famous travel guides, it was mentioned in “The 12 Quirkiest Winter Festivals in America.” Which only goes to show how hopelessly square Fodor’s is, since what’s quirky to them is just plain fun to us. Matter of fact, I’ve never heard any local refer to any Winter Carnival event as anything but fun — no matter how quirky it was.

So what IS the BBW-a-P? If hell actually froze over, I guess it could be fairly called Hell on Wheels, since it’s a bike ride around My Home Town, starting and ending at the ice palace, with the riders clad in bathing suits.

In all fairness, that’s not quite as crazy as it sounds, since the riders don’t have to wear only bathing suits. If you’re a winter wimp like me, you can wear as many underlayers as you want. I mean, c’mon, fun is fun, but I’m not about to freeze my fidooly for it.

That said, last year a bunch of hypothermic hardcores rode with only bathing suits between them and Jack Frost’s snapping incisors. And most amazing, many of them seemed not the least bit uncomfortable.

Among the most notable standouts was Las Hermanas Pelletiri. Next was a little fellow about 10 or 11 who not only rode strictly bathing-suit-clad, but walked around for at least a half hour before and a half hour afterward, wearing nothing else but a great grin. And finally there was was a woman d’un certain age who was rockin’ a bikini that would’ve given Ursula Andress a run for her money and who was as cool and unmoving as the block of ice she sat on while waiting to join the lineup.

So how was the ride itself? Wonderful … and beyond my wildest expectations. First, I figured we’d have maybe 20 riders, an estimate which my BBW-a-P Executive Officer Jack Drury dismissed with a condescending wave.

“Only 20 riders?” he said. “I’d bet we’ll have around 100.”

It turned out both of us were wrong: The final tally was somewhere around 120. It’s an inexact count because a whole bunch of the riders did the outlaw thing and never registered (something we intend to avoid in ’24).

But in one way the ride was also less than I expected. We did one lap around town, and everyone had a blast — including the smiling bystanders, who while enjoying what they were looking at, had no idea what it was. But even though we pedaled slowly, it was over too soon. Addressing that issue, this year’s will be either one or two laps, depending on who wants to double their fun.

Another change is no one will be allowed to ride unless they first register. You’ll be able to register in the Chamber of Commerce in our town hall, starting the week before the ride. You can also register day of, at the Palace, starting at 11:30, as the ride will start promptly at 1. The rules are for everyone’s welfare: Since the BBW-a-P is an official Winter Carnival event, it’s covered by the Carnival’s insurance policy, so it’s only sensible that the riders are covered by it as well. To make sure everyone registers, their hands will be ink-stamped at the registration table, and all riders will be checked at the starting line. As much as I admire the rebel spirit in many settings, the Blue Buns is not one of ’em — at least not as long my name is connected with it.

–

Compliments to the complement

–

Of course, the Blue Buns wouldn’t happen at all if it wasn’t for all the help I get from my loyal crew (loyal so far, at least — I never know when a mutiny might break out).

Operations Officer Liz Murray is in charge of the registration table and whatever else she wants to take charge of, and helping her will be her Mistresses of Arms, Barb Martin, Kelley Morgan and Marilyn Bigelow. New to the BB this year is CPO Patti McGrath, whose job duties are as yet undetermined by the Ops Officer.

(Dope’s note: It should go without saying I’m the captain of this crew, but I feel I have to state it for the benefit of any naifs among our readers.)

Our sound system belongs to Cathy Dyer-Nogales and her better half, Piedroso Walnut, who not only set it up, but downloaded all our music on it as well.

Then there are our sponsors, who contributed without hesitation, exemplifying the Winter Carnival spirit, in spades — especially since some of them are also sponsoring other Carnival events.

–

Oh, them changes …

–

Some further changes in this year’s BB.

One is we’ll be selling the official Blue Buns t-shirts both before and after the race. The design (a smashingly original piece of vehicular art) was custom crafted by our staff artiste, Bruce “Big Daddy” Young. We’ll have only 50 for sale, so if ya wanna be stylin some boffo threads, ya better not dawdle.

Another is our post-race comestibles. Dig This: One sponsor, The River Trail Beerworks bakery, who last year gave us seven dozen muffins with blue icing, is outdoing themselves this year: They’ve upped the ante to 10 dozen cinnamon rolls — also with blue icing, natch. Now here’s the thing: Since one of my 450 main weaknesses is cinnamon buns, and since I’m gonna pick ’em up the day before the ride, the total cinnamon roll count before ride time might be a passel less than 120. So if’n you wanna get one, you’d best hustle your buns, cuz they’ll be gone before you know it — especially since their price is more than right: It’s free!

A few final notes.

Costumes and decorated bikes are encouraged, and the more peeps who tart up both, the more fun they and the spectators will have. Plus we can show Fodor’s what quirky really looks like.

If you don’t want to ride a bike, you can always show up at the start or line the route and cheer on the stalwarts. Let’s face it: we can use all the moral support we can get. And what the hey, we’ll gladly take your immoral support too.

Also, if there’s room, you can ride in the police car (who’ll lead the way, with their very own light-and-siren show). Last year, Bro. Steve DeHond rode with them, holding up a sign that said, “Help! I’m a prisoner!” which added that perfect note of loveable scofflaw je ne sais quoi.

If the po-pomobile is full, or there’s a bolo on you, you can ride with Bro. Ron Burdick, bringing up the rear in the sag wagon.

And as with almost all Winter Carnival events, there’s no entry fee.

Finally, the essential question, which was raised at the start of this column: Will the Blue Buns cure the midwinter blues?

Well, since there’s only one way to find out, we can compare notes post-ride — if you can understand me with a mouthful of cinnamon roll.