Beware the ides of March (and April)
This time each year something happens here with the grinding regularity of stores starting to play X-mas music the day after Halloween. And like the stores and their premature musical Ho Ho Ho, our version annoys me to no end as well.
So what is it?
It’s people here wingeing about — What Else But — winter.
The nature of my annoyance with the premature Season-To-Be-Jolly shtick is the same as it is for our homegrown Winter Whiners, namely, enough is too much.
Of course, the motives behind each group are different. The stores are doing their Pavlovian best to get consumers to buy all kinds of deck that within the year will be either unworn, unused or broken. The whiners are also selling something — their suffering. But they’re not doing it for money. Instead, they want to trade their self-pity for their listener’s sympathy. In case you haven’t guessed, I don’t care about either.
Actually, the whiners don’t complain about winter, per se. In fact, generally they love winter … till now.
In the glorious period of grace from late November to mid-February, winter is their cup of wassail. They ski, they skate, they snowshoe and hike. They groove on the cold crisp air and the snow-capped peaks. They love the blue skies and blazing sun (on those rare days when we have ’em). They cruise on an ongoing high, starting with T’giving gratitude and gluttony, then on to X-mas altruism and acquisitiveness and finally following up with Winter Carnival’s exuberance and eccentricity.
But once Carnival’s over, the letdown begins. Then, a fortnight later, reality seeps in, followed by a feeling somewhat akin to despair.
As I said, winter itself isn’t the issue. What IS the issue is winter’s length. It’s not too much of a good thing, but too much of every-damned-thing. The snow, the cold, the obstructed sidewalks, the icy roads. Increased heating and electric bills, decreased sunlight, and so on, ad cryogenicide.
The result is the far-too-oft sniveled cry of surrender: “I just wish it was spring! Oh, ya do, do ya?
Well, guess what, Bunkie? At this point, almost EVERYONE’S had it with winter and wishes it was spring.
And guess what else? You want spring, you’ve got two choices. One is to drag your sorry self South. The other is to wait two months till it arrives, and in the meantime just get over it … and yourself.
Look, I’ll admit I don’t know much. But one thing I DO know is Adirondack winters. And unlike the old cliche, to know them is NOT to love them.
Don’t get me wrong. I like winter just fine and I’m outside in it a lot. But LOVE it? Not really.
And like everyone else, I get tired of it.
First, there’s the clothes. I know how to dress for winter, so I’m never cold. But I’m also trussed up in a wool cocoon from head to toe, which makes me both look and feel like the Michelin Man. All movement is slow and restricted. My Kamik packs, while comfy and cozy, make me feel like my feet are shlepping felt-lined foundation blocks. Even if I’m not wearing gloves, I have to be sure they’re stuffed on my pockets, along with my shades, hand cream, and snot rags — just in case. Of course I have a bandana and scarf around my scrawny neck. Without going into more detail, I’ll just say I’d be much happier with my clothing if it consisted of shorts, sandals, and one of my boffo Hawaiian sport shirts.
Then there’s the logistics of just getting by. Shoveling, sanding and re-shoveling and re-sanding. Scraping ice off the windshield and windshield wipers; chopping ice off the walkway. Ice dams. White-outs. Wipe outs. For peeps who have trouble driving at night, it can be a real drag when night begins at 4:30 or so.
And the list, like our winter itself, goes on and on and on …
But that’s not the point.
“Oh?” you say? “So what is?”
Only one thing — our attitude.
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The doctor’s in
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Listen up, kids, I’m gonna tell you this once, and once only: Winter is gonna keep doing its thing ’till it doesn’t. And our pathetic carping about it won’t change a damn thing — at least not meteorologically. What it DOES change is our EMOTIONAL meteorology, as it were. In other words, the more we whine, the more we bug not only everyone else, but ourselves as well. We become our own storm systems.
So as much as we might want to complain about the weather, no one wants to hear anyone else do it. In fact, no one listens, because all they’re doing is getting ready to air their grievances.
Second, whining about things you can’t change not only makes you a bore, it also makes you a self-made victim. When peeps hold nonstop one-person pity parties, they don’t have the time, energy or wherewithal to get their dupas in gear and actually DO something to improve their lot.
So what to do?
Just read on. Luckily, your life coach Dr. Dope is holding office hours and will now send you on the path to mid-winter enlightenment.
First, face the literal cold hard fact that winter’s gonna be with us ’till the end of April, and maybe a bit beyond. Sure, spring might come before then, but being the smart gambler I am, I wouldn’t bet on it. So even though this past week has been warm and wonderful, don’t get lulled and don’t drop your guard. Besides, let’s say all the snow is gone, and stays gone; the buds are on the trees; the birds are chirping their li’l heads off and the temps are downright balmy — then we’re livin’ large and on cruise control. We won, and winter lost.
But what if that doesn’t happen? What if we get some monster April snowstorms (which I hate to tell you, we’ve had in the past and thus could have again, like this April)? Simple: You just stay in your winter attitude (and long johns), don’t put away your shovel or snow tires, and wait it out, knowing, snowstorms or not, spring is right around the corner. It has always happened, and it always will. And if you’ve learned nothing else at this point in your life, you should know enough not to rush a beautiful experience.
Something else: Get outside and stay active. If you liked winter in December, the only reason you don’t like it in March or April isn’t because of winter — it’s because of Y-O-U.
And finally, don’t forget Dr. Dope’s Cabin Fever Reliever — chocolate. My prescribed dose is to take it orally, quotidian and whenever you want (starting at breakfast, if the spirit moves you). Take it in any form — cocoa, chocolate bars, cookies, cakes, ice cream, and so on. Just FYI, though both my versatility and capacity for chocolate treats verges on awe-inspiring, my current weapon of choice is the brownies at Mountain Chef, right in the middle of My Home Town.
There. That’s it. If following the doctor’s plans doesn’t cut both your carping and cabin fever, I will gladly return your misery — in full.
Oh yeah, one last thing: Don’t forget to floss.




