No. Thank you…that’s what I want to say to the kind-hearted boondocks and massifs of the Arctic. This may be winter and I damn well know that. I live in Detroit which is not the warmest place to live in – and I know that too. But after having lived through a 65 degree November day and a 70 degree December day, (which incidentally excited many northern US residents to their hilt) to be followed by some brutal, scathing and completely unnerving cold weather when the difference between day & night is just 6 degrees while the high temperature hovers below Zero even when the sun is out in all its vigor, is like remunerating an employee with a merit bonus (stuffed alongside an embossed gift certificate for two, to the most expensive restaurant in Manhattan) for his superlative performance and firing him 2 weeks later, for no reason.
It is probably 3 degrees below right now and I see some snow dust being sprayed from the skies above, forming a thin crust over the slimy roads lit by some powerful halogen lamps on what appears to be yet another dead, senseless and acerbically cold night, here in north eastern Ohio.
To me that’s not love. It is being fiendish. It is being viciously barbaric. It is like the brumal boreal winds bearing the bitter message of global warming.