Enough

-Clearly no one read yesterday’s editorial which is okay. It was largely a self-indulging, self-reflective mood swing. Boarding a flight from sunny southern California to head back east will do that to you.

-As I sat by the pool this past weekend, or took a couple turns plying the pipeline (pipe more like the pvc you’d find under your sink than anything of the size hooked to the town sewer) out west, I really questioned why the heck I live in New England. Yes, I know seasons are great: spring and the bloom, fall and the leaves, summer and the fireflies and barbeques. Its all good. Then there is winter, and it sucks.                      -I play hockey, as many of you know, religiously. Some would argue that the rink is my cathedral and I am often heard yelling at God, or at least my teammates. But I don’t need to play hockey outdoors in twelve feet of snow and sub zero temperatures. I am just as happy to travel from my air conditioned car in shorts and flip flops, laden by a hockey bag and sticks to a well refrigerated igloo of indoor ice. I am just as happy to kneel at an altar of an artificially created pew (often a penalty box) to worship. I do not need to be out in the elements. The rink and my teammates are the only elements I need.
-This winter, though, I, and my New England brethren, have had to endure a nightmarish weather scene. Snow piled upon snow and cold upon cold. I clearly think that global warming (and, no, I do not need some scientific explanation and formulation about the true impact of a global warming leading to increased moisture, blah, blah, blah) has missed the northeast. I have seen some nearly 6 feet of snow which has been plowed into piles along the road which completely obscure houses. I have a dog who cries because my backyard has drifts of nearly 8 feet locking her into an area the size of a picnic table (and I have shoveled that at least 5 times now, struggling to keep that small space free of snow). I have icicles that extend from the roofline to the ground (almost). The bushes have long since wilted to the snowdrifts and lie buried like coffins in a white graveyard. I am sick of snow. I am sick of the cold. I have had…
-Enough. Enough is getting back on that plane to southern California. We have an office in Manhattan Beach. And while, I have no implants and would not consider any, unless there are now brain donors out there, I’d welcome a good stretch by the pool or on the beach, or at least sitting in a backyard that is only covered in green grass.