I knew when the Mercury hit, like, almost 50F a couple
weeks ago here in Sunny Syracuse, and the thick carpet of snow
and ice began to melt away, it was surely a mirage. Mets fans will
experience the same phenomenon next month when Pedro and Carlos
send them off to a quick winning start. Eventually the heroin
addict will relapse, the injuries, errors, and mismanagement
will set in, and the boys from Flushing will sink into a mire
of mediocrity as deep and wide as Long Island Sound. But I
digress. We're talking about the weather.
So its March 1, and we got belted. A nice little Noreaster dropped
a fresh 9 inches of snow, and a deadbeat-dad gulfstream and Lake
Ontario promise highs in the 20s and more blasts of the white stuff
for the next several days. The Groundhog is sending obscene postcards
from Puerto Rico.
I could complain. I also could have joined my older brother for
graduate school down in Chapel Hill, NC. It has been known to snow
here on Mothers Day. I'm an idiot.
Basketball and daylight savings take me through these trying times
when I forget why I own a pair of Birkenstocks and seriously consider
relocating to somewhere like Austin, Texas or LA... Hoops gets you
into the forward thinking mentality. First, what should be a thrilling
Big East Tourney... then, the Big Dance... followed by the end of the
NBA season and beginning the playoffs, which deliver us into warm
and wonderful June. Somewhere along the way it gets lighter later, so
even if its toiletbowl disgusting outside, you can still see things
when you leave work at 6PM. How novel.
Another day I'll opine as to why Amendment XXVIII of the US Constitution should
ban falling back in late October. Let the kids go to school in the dark.
At any rate, I go on too long. Old man winter is settled in; we hope he
has the good nature to leave town by the time
the Eastern Conference Semis roll around.
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