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COLD SHOULDER
by: Dr. Boogie

This time of year, the weather changes from the oppressive heat of the summer, to the biting cold of winter. Iím not angry about it, though. Quite the contrary, you see. Whereas some might be content to lounge about in the sun, baking their skin to a crisp, or tossing a Frisbee back and forth on a balmy summer afternoon, Iíd much rather spend my time adding layer after layer of clothing to myself, and trying to coax feeling back into my digits.

You see, I prefer the cold weather to warm weather. Others will tell you that there is nothing quite as fine as a sunny day in the mid seventies (or twenties for our friends using the metric system). Thatís a load of bunk. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I count the sun among my worst enemies. Heís always up there, looking down on you with that cocky glare, watching you squirm in the heat he creates, reveling in your suffering. Itís no wonder the ancient Aztecs worshipped him out of fear. No, that is one astral body that I would not like to pay any homage to.

Putting my ludicrous grudges aside, however, there are other reasons to hate the warm climate. Take Greek mythology, for example. It tells us that winter is caused by the goddess, Demeter, who wanted to show how angry she was that Hades tricked her daughter into a Grecian shotgun wedding. And so you see, the forces of hell are indirectly responsible for winter. Think about it: all the best stuff comes from hell. Music, movies, candy, snack foods, cars, building material, the list goes on and on. To that end, winter must be good because Hades has a good track record when it comes to recommending things.

Of course, the main reason to hate warm weather is because it is warm. You see, when youíre cold, you can simply put on more clothing or start a fire. When youíre hot, though, when youíre hot is when youíre really screwed. When sweat is pouring down your face, you can drink water and towel off, but then youíll have no water left and youíll have befouled a perfectly good towel. Moreover, when youíre hot, thereís only so much clothing you can take off before you have to start cutting off chunks of yourself like the lawyer from Se7en.

The sun hates it when you do this.
That's right, laugh it up, kid.

Thereís another reason to hate warm weather: Fatness. You see, when youíre fat, you heat up quickly and easily because youíve got that extra layer of blubber hanging off of you like a flesh toned inner tube full of beef tallow. And why do you want to get skinny? So you wonít be sweating like a pig when you pick up the morning newspaper, of course. And thereís your proof. The ultimate objective is to escape from the tyrannical grasp of the dśmons of heat.

Let it not be said that I was unfair to heat-lovers in this piece, however. Why, some of my best friends love warm weather, love the feeling of the sun roasting them alive whenever the clouds arenít there to shield them, and love *shudder* physical activity. They deserve an equal share of the humor pie as well.

With cold weather comes the cold season. A season I am all too familiar with. Once the temperature falls below seventy degrees, I instantly develop cold symptoms. Iíve even exploited this gift/curse to predict the weather far more accurately than any self-proclaimed ďmeteorologist.Ē Where do they get off giving themselves such a misleading name? Iíll bet most of them have never seriously looked at a meteor and said, ďI wonder if thatís the one with the aliens behind it?Ē Hell, Iíll bet those poseurs donít even know the difference between meteors, meteorites, and meteoroids. I certainly didnít until a recent trip to dictionary.com, but then again, I donít go around calling myself a ďmeteorologist.Ē

He can hardly contain his joy.
You don't know how good you have it, dad...

Anyway, if I may further distance myself from those liars, another problem with cold weather is that you have to put on a bunch of extra clothes. If youíre like me, you have trouble keeping track of the clothes youíre wearing, let alone a bunch of peripherals like jackets and gloves and such. Of course, if youíre like me, you deserve a medal, you devilishly handsome rogue, you.

Winter also brings less than favorable driving conditions. For me, winter isnít complete until my car starts to slide around on the road like a toddler going down the big plastic slide in the parkÖ Alright, I admit that that wasnít my most cogent simile, but my point remains that driving in the winter is a pain in the ass. Also, Iím in the middle of my aforementioned seasonal illness. That said, cut me some slack, Jack. Or Jill, if you prefer.

And so you see the dual nature of clod weather, being both good and bad. Fabulous and crummy. Savior and villain. Rocky I and Rocky V. Matrix Revolutions and Matrix Reloaded. Now, some of you warm weather fans, and to a lesser extent warm weather sympathizers, might want to point out that I only cited three examples of winter flaws and four examples of winter pros. Well Iím sorry, but life isnít fair. Itís like when you go to buy a bag of Doritos from the store, but you find out that the bag is mostly just Doritos-smelling air, and not so much of the orange chips you crave. All I can tell you is not to obsess over it, or youíll end up empty inside, just like the Doritos bag.

Now that those heat-loving pussies have been dealt with, all thatís left to do is dismiss my fellow cold-loving fanboys. Itís November, and that means itís time to open your windows and crank up the AC while all the other meatheads out there are struggling to heat their fragile, waif-ish frames. Once your microscopic heating bill arrives, it will be you who has the last laugh. That said, Iím going to go get myself a cold drink and stand outside in the blistering winter winds. I trust you can show yourself out.

note: Dr. Boogie currently lives in the Bahamas.


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