Mid-Winter Reprieve

I’m trying not to get too excited about the 50+ degree weather we’ve had the past couple days because I know that winter is just waiting to return with a vengeance. It’s simply the way it is around here in mid-winter in Ohio. We get a few days of nearly balmy weather and people start running around in shorts and t-shirts and flip-flops.

Come on, people! Fifty degrees is NOT flip-flop weather.

Yesterday I even saw a bunch of guys on motorcycles roaring past me on the highway and all I could think was, Yeah, yeah, it’s 59 degrees out, but, dudes – admit it – you HAVE TO BE freezing!

Not that the dudes responded, of course, since I was just thinking that in my head. If they had responded, I’d have been a little freaked. Or maybe a LOT freaked. Because then I’d have to acknowledge that I was hearing voices in my head…

Now I have to admit at least they aren’t as crazy as those crazy people who belong to crazy Polar Bear clubs and plunge into ice-covered waters in the middle of zero degree temperatures. Who is crazy enough to do this? And, okay, so some of those organizations raise money for charity, but still. I’ll stay bundled up at home and will send a check, okay?

At any rate, the guys on the motorcycles weren’t the only ones behaving as if they’d never experienced warmer weather. Even Vince was not immune to the hints of springtime to come. We drove the mile or so to our destination last night with the windows open! Since the sun had nearly set and the temps were dropping, he raised the window on the driver’s side. But he still left the window behind me open. That is, until I shot him a dirty look and said, “Do I look hot over here or something”?

Fortunately, Vince is getting really good at understanding the difference between my asking him questions that necessitate answers and questions that are purely rhetorical where it’s probably not a good idea to respond.

So he didn’t say a word – he merely closed the window.

Thank. You.

Now I won’t say that I haven’t appreciated the warmer weather myself. I’m happy to see that all the soot-encrusted black snow has melted – for two reasons. 1) it’s ugly. And 2), it has freed up room for the next round of winter snow and ice to accumulate.

I have also been able to ditch my bulky winter coat for a day or two. Yesterday I wore my lightweight spring raincoat and was surprised at how much less confining it felt – especially in the car where I usually feel like I’m being strangled between my bulky layers of clothing, winter coat, knit scarf and the seatbelt. Somewhere around the mid-point between home and work I start clawing at the scarf to loosen it so I can breathe a little easier.

And today I didn’t even wear an outer coat! Instead, I wore a suede jacket. Now, true enough, I am wearing a turtleneck sweater underneath the suede jacket, so I’m not exactly dressed for summer. But it’s a start.

Of course, you know what this means, don’t you? People will start coming down with sore throats and colds and all manner of nasty bugs.

Why is that, exactly? I’ve never been able to figure out why people start getting sick when we have a couple days of warmer weather in mid-winter.

Maybe there is no actual scientific correlation between warmer weather and illness, but I’m not taking any chances. I think we’ll up our daily intake of Vitamin C, Echinacea, and Airborne. I’ll be using antibacterial hand gel like I have stock in the company.

And if all that doesn’t work and I feel a scratchy throat and a congested schnoz coming on, I might even go so far as to make an appointment with a witch doctor – maybe he’ll have some magical potions for kicking the common cold.

In the meantime, I’m heading outside. Anyone have some sunscreen handy?

Musings on the Road of Life (or at least on I-71N!)

I was driving home from the gym last night after a sweaty workout and was paying more attention to the aches and pains of various body parts than to my fellow drivers. Don’t get me wrong, I had my eyes firmly focused on the road ahead of me, but I wasn’t noticing each and every vehicle sharing the highway with me.

This is unlike my usual behavior where I often check out the vanity license plates and make up stories about the person. Some plates are so clever that I don’t make up stories about the person – I just admire their creativity. But others? Not so much.

Hey, I figure anyone who is vain enough to pay for and affix to their vehicle a license plate that reads “2HOT4U” deserves whatever fictional stories I can envision.

Like I picture the tan, blonde little chickie-doo with this particular vanity license plate a few decades down the road with skin all wrinkly so that the “cool” tattoos she had drilled into her skin at 20 have become unrecognizable. And I imagine that gravity has finally gotten the best of things and the fourteen holes she had pierced into her ears are causing her lobes to droop to her shoulders so that she vaguely resembles a beagle.

Is this mean of me? Eh. Maybe. Hey, I think it’s great when young people celebrate their youth. They should – because it doesn’t last as long as anyone thinks it will. I also say “to each his own” and if someone wants to cover themselves in tattoos and piercings, that’s their decision. But I also totally get that young folk do not think they will succumb to old age – ever. None of us do. But even when I was young, I was never vain enough to think I was “2HOT4U” even during the years I might have been somewhat lukewarm.

But, as I said, I wasn’t paying attention to vanity license plates. I was thinking, Oww…my knees are shot. I shouldn’t have set the speed on the treadmill at 1.2 MPH…that was wayyy too fast! And I was also thinking, I wonder how long it will take me to get buff arms using .5 lb weights?

I joke. Actually, the treadmill was set at a level that, while not fast enough to win me any speed records, was faster than, well, "not moving." And I’m not a total slouch with the weight machines either. Nevertheless, on the drive home I WAS thinkin’ about the stitch in my side and the ache in my shoulder.

Anyway, I was suddenly distracted from my thoughts when I noticed a motorcycle in the lane next to me. The rider had on a helmet, riding gloves and sturdy shoes. Not much of a distraction, right? But then I noticed the brown stretch pants. From there my eyes were drawn to the white lace blouse fluttering in the wind.

Huh?

Most of the time when I see women on motorcycles, they are hanging on behind a male rider. So forgive my antiquated notions that only men drive the things. But the stretch pants sort of had me befuddled. I couldn’t come close to telling her true age as her black and red motorcycle helmet hid her face from view. But – and please forgive me – the arms holding onto to the handles were not young arms. They were sort of…um…flapping in the wind.

Not that I have room to talk. But my arms rarely see the light of day. And they are never attached to the handlebars of a motorcycle!

Sadly, my decided lack of knowledge of all things “motorcycle” prevent me from reporting on what sort of bike it was. Nor would I assume that she’s a member of Hell’s Angels or some other badass cycle group. She could be, I suppose, but I doubt even granny riders wear brown stretch pants and white lace blouses when they’re out on their “choppers.” (Do they even call motorcycles “choppers”? See? This is unknown territory for me!)

Nevertheless, I did sort of think it was cool that this (apparently) older woman was tooling down the freeway on her bike. To each his own – right? And, okay, so I did sort of wonder if she had any tattoos. And then I tried to imagine how many holes she had in her ears. And my final thought before I returned to my own little world of aches and pains was: Can you get vanity license plates for motorcycles? If so, hers might read: “HOTFLSHN”!