2013-12-22


by Steve

Oh, wait. There is ice in soltice. So I guess I will instead call this post Tim Is Wrong. 

There are so many topics that I could spend the rest of 2013 at my computer and not cover them all, even if I were to use extra exclamation points! We got the Hanukkah-miracle Packers and the National Championship finalist Badgers volleyballers and the single-digit-ranked Badgers basketballers and the winter solstice, which you know I consider the first day of spring, and we got Christmas. Given those choices, you may find it odd that I choose to talk about the weather.

Years ago my friend, Tim, and I once had a friendly argument about seasonal affective disorder (SAD). He claimed that everyone gets SAD, at least a little, and that anyone who says he doesn’t is a big fat, or in my case small thin, liar. I told him I don’t get SAD, but the claim was made while we were drinking coffee and eating breakfast at an outdoor restaurant in Mexico, so it was hard to say it with any credibility. Since then I have been paying attention and, for the record, not that I plan to print this out in large font and tape it to his windshield, TIM IS WRONG.

Granted, whenever the observer and the subject are the same, the study has intrinsic bias, so I will let you decide. Thursday I worked a 16-hour day. It was dark when I got to work and dark when I finished. And it was 27 degrees. The roads were covered with a layer of ice, except if you are my mom, then the roads were bone dry, Mom. I was excited because riding on ice with studded bike tires is exhilarating. The fact that almost nobody else gets that makes it even more fun, because others think I am some kind of mysterious ninja Jedi night, when in fact I am just a well-informed consumer who, like any 9-year-old, can balance on two wheels while pedaling.

Had I been in my car I would have crept along cautiously, listening to a mildly interesting discussion on talk radio likely yawning every few blocks. Instead, I was flying! Figuratively! Unless you are my mom, then I was navigating my route with extreme caution, stopping every few feet to look both ways and check the ground below for snakes. It took me a few blocks before I realized I was also whistling the song Winter Wonderland, which officially makes me the most eccentric person you know, but definitely not SAD affected. In summary, TIM IS WRONG. Any questions about that? Tim?

For the benefit of my desert dwelling relatives, who think rain is for summer and snow is for winter, I will elaborate on the science behind ice rain. It all starts with water high in the clouds. As the water falls the sky converts the water to snow if it is cold enough, which it was that night. Sometimes the sky forgets, probably because it is distracted by social media, and the water keeps its liquid form. But the ground, which doesn’t even have internet, never forgets, so the rain immediately freezes. That’s why everything, including my coat, safety glasses, helmet, light and gears were all thinly coated with ice after a few minutes. Don’t worry, Mom, I could still see fine because it was an almost-transparent layer of ice and it was dark anyway, so there was only so much to see. Just kidding!

The only place that had no ice was the street by rival hospital St. Mary’s, which I call Salt Mary’s. They put enough salt on their street and sidewalks that we can now keep tropical fish in Lake Monona! The reason they salt so heavily is that the ice is stressful for people who don’t have studded bike tires and because lawyers have to pay for their kids’ college tuitions too.

Yes, Mom, I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that my traction does me no good if a car with summer tires slides into me. True that, which is why I go to eccentric lengths to avoid proximity with any vehicle larger than mine. This includes riding sidewalks, parking lots,  bike paths and quiet residential streets. And the nicest thing about working late is that almost everyone else is already home. Oh, and I NEVER ride in bike lanes, for example the bike lane between the traffic lane and the bus lane on University Avenue (a.k.a. duh), because paint has not yet proven to be an effective barrier between cars and cyclists.

Besides uncommon mobility, there is another reason that ice is not stressful to me. It’s because I have a dog who, by convention, poops and pees outside 365 days of the year. When you watch your dog do that, you feel like your life is not that hard.

Here is an exercise if the ice has got you down: Take off all your clothes. Walk out to your front yard, crunching barefoot through the ice into knee-deep snow. Walk around sniffing until things smell just right, which is not so easy when all the necessary odors are covered with snow, then poop. Tell yourself you did a good job, put the poop in a plastic bag, set the bag on your neighbor’s porch--Just kidding, Neighbors!--then return to the comfort of your home to realize how easy your life is.

Or you could just ride your bike.

{sosbros.com is an amateur sports and other stuff blog that is not to be taken too seriously. ©2013 DrTM Enterprises. All rights reserved.}

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