I Shot Six Holes in My Freezer (Almost)

Lately, newspaper mentioned cheap airfare
I've got to fly to Saint Somewhere
I'm close to bodily harm
Boat Drinks - Jimmy Buffett

The five families met last night, a contract was issued and it was decided – Winter Must Die!

I’ll probably look back in five or ten years when I’m living near the ocean and come to the realization that it was during the winter of 2014 when my appreciation for snow and cold temperatures “jumped the shark”.

In some aspects, I never saw this transformation coming.  A quarter century of winters past, saw me and my family enjoy countless ski days enjoying the sun and cold crisp air enjoying adventures outdoors in the elements.

Maybe I’m coming to that realization that I’m old.  Not sure what is happening to me, but this winter really has me blue.  It’s weird because for 50 odd years I’ve always enjoyed winter.  Whether it was hittin’ the slopes, road biking on the weekends, ice skating, or taking photographs on early morning strolls around Strawbridge Lake I was always down with winter.  Am I getting like my father-in-law who used to complain about his thin winter skin as he drove to Virginia each January to ride the Amtrak train en route to Florida with all the other local snow birds.

Even Marie has noticed my normally cheery disposition take a bit of a nose dive these past three weeks.  Recently, I’ve been viewing my California, Florida and Mexico photo portfolios on a more frequent basis and if you know me that’s really saying something!  I found myself regularly daydreaming of early morning walks on Sanibel Island or Tulum while stopped at a light or gazing out of the PATCO train window crossing the Delaware River each morning on my daily commute.  When a Beach Boys song would appear on my iPod suddenly I was walking on the beaches of Santa Monica or Carmel.  I have some kinda junkie’s desire to head to the Jersey Shore beaches these past two weekends.  I got it bad, man......

I mean I’m ready to drive south and west until the money and booze run out.

It was Saturday morning and for the fourth time in less than two weeks it was snowing in the Delaware Valley.  Sadly, I put on my hiking boots, winter jacket, ski cap, and gloves and trudged out to my ice cold automobile parked in my snowy driveway.  Armed with my trusty shopping list I was ready to make my last stand against winter. 

My first stop was Shop Rite to purchase the following winter staples; firewood, limes, frozen margarita mix, ice, chips and salsa.  Next stop was the local liquor store for tequila, triple sec and lime juice.   My last stop was Barnes & Noble for Jack Johnson CDs, John MacDonald novels and a travel book on Sint Maarten.   

It’s hard to say whether it was the multiple margaritas, roaring fire, soothing island music or the detective novels set in Florida, but suddenly and without notice I was no longer trapped in the coldest most frigid northeast part of the United States. 

I finally surfaced after hours in this suspended reality.  When I came to, I had to laugh out loud at the little games we continually play with our human brains to trick our consciousness into going to our respective “Happy Places” wherever they may reside on the map or in our heads.  For the better part of 48 hours, I took a mini-vacation from the winter elements outside of my kitchen window.  I must admit, I did feel a little better from where I started on Saturday morning.

Okay, maybe I’m just in the trial separation phase of my long-term relationship with winter, but I’m definitely taking it slow on the rebound.  I’ve decided I’ll keep my 724 Pro Volkl’s (skis) and will not put them up for offer on Craigslist on Monday morning.  For now, I’ll keep Aspen penciled on my Bucket Ski List and I won’t necessarily rule out buying those cross-country skis next winter ready to break them in on the long par 5 holes at Laurel Creek. 

More importantly, our Sears Kenmore will live to see another day!

Sorry to interrupt reading my most intimate thoughts, but Travis McGee just texted me.  It appears that my junior knight-errant skills are in demand.  Something about joining him on the Busted Flush heading up to Treasure Island, Florida.   Seems like some poor bastard did some young woman wrong and we gotta make it right.   The embers in my fireplace have turned from orange to black.   My bottle of tequila is empty and I’m all out of ice.  I’ll send you a postcard when I get there........

I know I should be leaving this climate
I got a verse but can't rhyme it
I gotta go where it's warm

Regards,

“Meyer”