COLUMN: Manning the snow ship
Captain’s log: Feb. 20, 2012, 11:45 p.m. — Currently stationed in Logan, Utah, under the strict assignment to bear the unbearable cold. Many locals have already commented on the shallowness of the cold in this winter compared to others, calling it, as phrased by their cultural vernacular, “weak sauce.”
My attempts to avoid interactions with the cold have been successful thus far, as I have remained in my quarters and have mainly kept to myself.
Now 11:53 p.m. — I have been confronted at my door by local allies in my place of residence. The leader of the group, who, according to my research, is called “Daniel,” has given me the formal invitation to participate in what is heretofore known as “sledding.” The activity is mostly comprised of sliding down a snow-ridden hill on a flat stationery device of sorts. I see no merit in the activity itself but do find this an open window to establish peace with the locals, so I have accepted his request. I am now retreating to gather myself in warm clothes.
Now 12:07 a.m. — We have reached the top of Old Main Hill for a sledding rendezvous after an in-transit colloquial conversation about John Hughes movies. Daniel, in what must have been an act of assuming group dominance, has made his departure down the hill first, sliding and shouting “eagle” as he descended the landmark. As far as my prioritized efforts to bear the cold, all signs are positive. In fact, it really isn’t so bad. Perhaps, I can be one with the cold after all.
Now 12:13 a.m. — I have been granted the gift of peace to descend the hill. Only six minutes into initiation, and the people have accepted me as their own. Braving cold has its rewards. I make movement down the hill and it is surprisingly enjoyable. My foot scrapes the snow, and the snow flings into my face, but shockingly I am not affected at all by the cold. This truly has become an assigned mission wherewith the sauce has deemed itself considerably weak.
Now 12:15 a.m. — Clearly, I have underestimated the walk back up the hill. Cup o’ Noodles was obviously a bad choice as a refueling substance in preparation for this activity. I have made it to the top of the hill, breathing heavily and feeling a small chill descend down my neck. The cold may be settling in, but I am confident it will pose no real threat.
Now 12:16 a.m. — Funny, I can’t feel my nose.
Now 12:16:04 a.m. — And for that matter, my cheeks as well.
Now 2:16:09 a.m. — I don’t recall needing a solution for chapped lips until this point. Odd.
Now 12:17 a.m. — I have again been invited to descend hill on sled. My gloves have rendered themselves damp, and I can no longer recognize when my hands grab things, so I shall sled with my hands in my pockets.
Now 12:18 a.m. — Oomph! I have rolled into a snow bank and my sled has broken in half. The knees of my jeans are dampened and it irritates my inner thighs — will reassess situation after ascent back up hill.
Now 12:19 a.m. — I don’t remember this hill being a half-mile long. As a surviving technique, I am alternating breathing with furious coughing. Snow has clearly deceived me and is now making silent plots to see to my demise, seeping its evil nectar into both layers of my socks. Daniel has established hierarchy, proclaiming that I need to stop complaining, as the cold isn’t so bad, but I am too distracted by his face now resembling what I believe to be a turnip. I am sitting on the sidewalk in an effort to regain energy.
Now 12:21 a.m. — What, Daniel? You want me to go again? Are you insane? I have metaphorical children to live for.
Now 12:23 a.m. — Waiting on sidewalk in the cold, I may not make it back alive. Contrary to my hopes, cold is still the enemy — must continue breathing into coat to stay alert.
Now 12:24 a.m. — I have now reached day three of the treacherous sled experience and there are no signs of – wait, what? We’ve only been gone 17 minutes? You have to be kidding me. Stop laughing, just because I’m from California doesn’t mean I’m a wuss. No, you shut up. That’s it, I’m going home. I told you we should have just stayed in and played “Skyrim.” This is a depressed meme waiting to happen.
Finally, 12:33 a.m. — I return home and make hot chocolate. Mission accomplished.
– steve.schwartzman@gmail.com