'Fighting the Blahs' can't overcome Old Man Winter
/The Boston Herald
I've had 'The Principles of Fighting the Blahs' stick-pinned to the bulletin board above my computer for months. I knew I'd need them some day. I'm looking at them now because 'some day' arrived Wednesday.
Remember Wednesday? More snow. More school cancellations. More scraping and shoveling. More delays on all roads going anywhere. More horn-blowing and grousing and snarling.
It was yet another in a string of return visits by Old Man Winter who is traveling with a steamer trunk full of goodies this year. We keep assuring him he can go and spread the wealth, that we've had quite enough of him, thank you. But he seems to like it here, likes surprising us with his gifts of wind and cold and ice and snow.
Hey, we can take it. We're strong. It is winter, after all. What do we expect? Besides, things could be worse. Just look at Southern California. All we have here is some white stuff that will eventually melt.
Eventually. That's the key word. Eventually could mean March. It could mean April. In 1977, it snowed in May. Eventually could be months away.
I think about the Donner party trapped by walls of snow in the Sierra Nevada, freezing, starving, dying. Snow everywhere. No escape. No diversion. And I think about how I have a roof over my head and a thermostat I keep inching up, and chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven and potato chips and red wine and music and television - though I'm not too sure that one's a blessing - and a car with heat that can take me anywhere I want to go if I really want to go somewhere. And I shake my head and think, how can I complain? I have nothing to complain about.
Then I think about human beings who are living in Hawaii or Aruba or some other warm, sunny place, strolling along a tropical beach, bootless, coatless, gloveless, sand on their feet, the sun on their backs, palm trees swaying, gulls cawing, Coppertone and pina coladas sweetening the air, warm, tanned, happy. And I want to stand on top of a snowbank and scream. 'Doing something new is a surefire way to change your attitude and start feeling better,' my list of suggestions begins. 'Escape from the ordinary. On a clear day rent a convertible and ride with the top down.’
I opened the car window half-way Monday when it was a balmy 29 degrees and I did feel better. Does this count? Renting a convertible isn't a bad idea. It's just a tad impractical at the moment, unless you can drop it off in Key West next week. 'Park near an airport runway and watch the planes take off and land.’
This is supposed to be a cure for the blahs? This is supposed to soothe a frostbitten soul? Watching smiling people with shorts and sandals in their suitcases toting tennis rackets? Being left behind while throngs escape the cold and the ice? Why not just hang around Tiffany's for a while and stare at all the things you can't afford? Or linger in the lobby of some elegant restaurant and just smell the food?
'Clean out your closet, attic or storage room. Redecorate the room you spend the most time in.'I should have read this list before I bothered to save it. This isn't about fighting the blahs. It's about feeding them. It's about how to go from feeling bad to feeling worse. 'Learn a new skill. Take up scuba diving.' Right. I'll do it tomorrow.
'Spend a weekend at a deluxe hotel and have breakfast in bed.' Can the hotel be in St. Thomas? Martinique? The Fiji Islands? 'Get yourself a fabulous new haircut?' Why? The mandatory ski hat defeats the purpose.'Go for a walk and enjoy nature.’
Now that's a novel idea. Imagine walking without having to avoid snow mounds and icy spots and potholes and motorists intent on killing you. Imagine actually enjoying nature. I know. I know. Some people are enjoying nature even now, snow lovers, skiers, skaters, people without driveways. Also, people who've driven out of their driveways, to the airport, hopped a flight to warmer climes and are out of here until spring.