It’s c-c-c-c-cold outside.
And, in some cases, like here at our Wetumpka Herald offices, it’s cold inside, too.
I don’t have a thermometer in my office, but I know that from my thighs to my toes, my legs are cold as the wind off a glacier’s face.
The central heat doesn’t appear to be working. I do have a portable heater in my office and, while I can feel an inkling of heat emanating from it, it’s certainly not enough to prevent what feels like frostbite forming in my legs.
And while we’re experiencing a cold snap – in duration and degree – that ranks with some of the coldest weather we’ve had in some time, do we really want to compare ourselves with others who have it much worse?
Take the New Year’s Eve revelers in New York’s Times Square for example. The temperature eventually fell before the broadcast went off the air to right around 10 degrees. Some of those people came to Times Square not only from around the country but from around the world. They were warned to drink and eat minimally because bathrooms would not be available to the massive crowds.
Yes, it’s cold here in central Alabama this morning, but I like to think we’re not stupid enough to seek out a deep freeze where we won’t be able to perform necessary bodily functions for hours on end.
But if you really want to be chilly, perhaps a trek to Whitefield, New Hampshire is exactly what your doctor would order. The temperature in Whitefield, located on the Johns River in the Great North Woods near Mount Washington (the northeast’s highest peak), bottomed out this morning at 33 degrees below zero.
Can you imagine the out-and-out panic that such temperatures would cause in the Great South Woods of Alabama?
But, like they say about Texas, if you don’t like the weather, wait long enough in Alabama and it will change. On Sunday, the National Weather Service says it will be sunny and 51 degrees here. On Monday, we get some rain, but we also get more warmth with a high of 59 predicted.
I was really glad to see the calendar page turn on 2017. It was not my best year what with the death of my father-in-law, a dislocated elbow and the doctor’s appointments and physical therapy that have accompanied that injury, my wife’s nasty, lengthy bout with the flu, a long stint of time without a sports editor, ad nauseum (and I do mean ad nauseum), but goshdarn it, 2018 ain’t starting off that much better.
Why? Can’t you hear? I said it’s COLD! New York and Whitefield be damned, it’s cold enough to kill a big, strapping hog in my office with no worries of spoilage.
By the way, where’s Al Gore when you need him, because I could sure use some global warming right about now. I’m no non-believer. I believe the science that says our planet is warming and it’s largely our (man’s) fault. I just need someone to prove me and Al and every other scientist in the world worth his or her salt right and start with an illustration that features my scrawny little frostbitten legs beginning to globally de-ice.
If that ain’t personal sacrifice for the better scientific understanding of our climate, then I don’t know what is.
I’m just a living congressional exhibit waiting – and wanting – to happen.
Oh, to be warm again!
I guess there’s always later this week.