The phrase for how cold it's been these last couple of days, I believe, is "cold as a witch's teat." It's colloquial, true, but when you think about it, it has to be accurate. Anyone with nipples as cold as last Monday wouldn't stay benevolent for long. Likewise, any baby suckling from a boob lactating zero-degree milk would definitely grow up to be evil. It's a vicious cycle for witches, and I'd honestly feel sorry for them if they weren't constantly cursing princesses or creating soporific miasmas around poppy fields.
It's not something I'm used to. Out west, descriptions of cold vary significantly, from the oxymoronic "cold as all hell" to the relatively paradoxical "cold as balls." But then again, due to our close proximity to Salem, we might as well stick with the regional dialect. Cold as a witch's teat, indeed.
I'm a patient man and a tolerant one; I rarely get angry. The ire that tends to seep into my articles is more sarcastic than real. However, this cold snap really puts a lot of things into perspective, and what follows explains exactly why I'm billed as a ranting (and rambling) columnist.
I woke up yesterday to the sun shining brightly through my windows, so I did the Mountain Time thing and put on shorts to head off to a meeting. I made it halfway before the wind picked up and the air temperature plummeted into the negative teens. In that instant, I knew I had made a huge mistake.
A northeasterner might wonder when and if a bag of hammers was dropped on my head; only an idiot would walk outside in shorts. Back off for a second, though, because it's not that simple. I worked ski patrol in Colorado, and I've been stuck outside in blizzards as cold as negative forty with wind-chill, so I know what cold is. Monday was nothing compared to what I've seen.
The reason some of us westerners wear shorts in the winter is not because we're insane, but because we're trying to remain comfortable. I'm not a fan of layering up and walking for five minutes, then stripping back down just to remain comfortable. Instead, I'd rather grin and bear it for the five-minute transition and not have to sweat through an hour-long class.
In fact, if you want sure-fire tips on how to stay warm, I can offer you two right now. The obvious one is to wear a hat; you'll lose more heat through your melon than you will through your lower legs, so if you are going to pick and choose, don't be an idiot.
The other way to stay warm is to urinate. I kid you not. For who knows what reason, your body thinks it has to keep the bladder piping hot (a fact I like to throw at intelligent design proponents). If you haven't peed in awhile, your body is diverting precious heat to a lot of unnecessary liquid. Take my advice: when it's this cold outside, pee before you leave.
So that's the story. We're not idiots, okay? We rock the shorts, throw on our hats, visit the little boys and girls room, and hop from building to building as if they were lily pads with space heaters. It's a great system.
That is, until someone decides to block off Talbot Ave.
If you want to talk about idiocy, you can talk about sealing off one of the three major avenues into campus from College Ave. I don't care if closing the road expedites construction; I am not paying 45 grand a year for you to inconvenience me. It doesn't matter if it saves you money; it doesn't save me time.
There has got to be some give-and-take here, and for a departing senior, there is no give. I live with the satisfaction of knowing that the Sophia-Gordon Hall will make as much of a dent in the housing situation as it will fulfill Tufts' pledge to become more sustainable. I get more satisfaction feeding domesticated squirrels.
Here's a hint: it's called a "pedestrian bridge," and there was a way to make it work, you master planning morons. If you can figure out how to extract money from me for fundraising thirty years from now, you could damn well have figured out an alternative to losing Talbot completely. I thought I could tolerate it, but that was because I forgot I was paying you.
Okay, I'm out of angry. And I do acknowledge that there may be a silver lining to all this: it makes it harder to go outside. On Saturday night I was on College Ave, my only intention to make it over to a party on Powderhouse.
Due to the cold, however, I stayed put long enough, at least, to introduce a little more West into this northeastern ice pit and substitute gargoyles for keg-stands with none other than the Traveling Lush herself (I'll let her elaborate). Errands were scratched in lieu of staying home and hanging out, and no one has to go do the personal-gym-thing since we burn enough calories just staying warm.
If anything, this week will make next week feel amazing by comparison. In conclusion, everything is everything and nothing is nothing. I can't issue a universal verdict on weather patterns anyway. So stay in and enjoy yourself or go out and stay warm. Just make sure you visit the bathroom before you leave.
