Hot Flash?

Dearest Blog Readers

I hope this blog finds you doing well. It leaves me in the middle of a hot flash. A 60 degree Friday, January 6, a 50 degree Saturday, January 7, a 45 degree Sunday, January 8 in Indiana, it is glorious. My goal of riding at least one day a month so far hasn't been much of a challenge. I was listening to my favorite Saturday morning radio show this weekend and at least three people called in and spoke of early spring flowers coming out of dormancy. One person had phlox blooming on the seventh day of January. El Nino isn't working out like they had predicted. Meteorology is the only science in the world where you don't get penalized for being wrong headed.

I take that back. One year during the Indy 500, one of the weather guys predicted that there was no way the race was going to run that day. It was going to be a complete rainout. Like the villagers who wanted to believe the little wolf crier, some misguided individuals believed and figured that since there would be no race there would be no beer. Consequently, they decided to keep their powder "kegs" dry and figured that they would go to the race and drink on Monday. Low and behold the rain stopped and the race was completed on Sunday, sans numerous adult beverage toting beer bellied sun burnt Speedway denizens. You can only imagine the consternation on Monday morning. Legend has it that on that Monday morning Georgetown and 16th was lined up four deep, tears streaming down faces on to homemade "show us your #*&#$" signs making those water soluble  masterpieces unreadable.

That guy lost his job. Literally, within three days, he was replaced. Don't be messing with my beer drinking opportunities.

This warm weather has presented another challenge. It never fails. Every year a week or two after January 1, the weather gets warm on the weekend and everyone rushes out and pulls down their Christmas lights. Why? I ask you. You photon artists braved the dark days after Thanksgiving; trudging out to the garage, finding the correct Christmas decoration tote, untangling last years mess, giving up, and running to Lowes to get new strand of white lights. You got out there and fought back the dark days of the long winter's nap. Now during the dog days of the winter solstice you give up. Believing that there will be no more nice days, you get nervous and pull the plug.

Believing those sirens of the mid-winter thaw, you get out there. You pull down the lights. Rushing frantically, you realize that you forgot to buy that cord wrapping plastic thingy. Ignoring Ben Franklin's wisdom about pennies and pounds, you stuff the lights into the tote and run in the house to watch Wild Card weekend. Those actions plunge the world back into blackness; leaving the seasonal affective disorder afflicted to suffer the ravages of our cold dark winter. Why? You could procrastinate. You do it all of the time. You'll wait until April 14th to start your love note to Uncle Sam, but let the temp get to 35 with some sunshine in January, and you are out the door.

Come on. Why do you allow the neighbor's snide remarks keep you from helping make the world a little brighter place?  Be strong. Ignore them at the Valentine's day block party when they say "Great idea Joe with the lights. A couple more months and you'll be ready for Christmas." Be proud. Respond "yeah I thought about taking them down, but the dog seems so much happier when I let him out for his evening constitutional, and I've noticed that your kids aren't wearing gothe this year." Be witty. Sew a heart on your Harley riding reindeer and call it a valentine’s day decoration. Shoot, if you are passive aggressive, watch for the neighbor to take out his dog and flip the switch on and off spelling out "how do you like me now?" in Morris Code.

You could be proactive. When you see that the weather is going to be nice and the neighbor is heading out the door, get a twelve pack and a couple of lawn chairs, walk over, and offer him a beer. You don't want to miss an opportunity like this. You never know when it will be raining in May.

Take Care.

Roger