Thursday, January 27, 2005

Dear Winter

There are some things about our relationship that I think need to be addressed. I know that in the past we've been pretty good friends: you were always very reliable when it came to getting days off from school, you always snowed during winter break and then warmed up just enough for a trek into the woods, and you were often very packable for purposes of making snowpersons, snowballs, snow forts, etc. Oh, and you smelled nice. By that I mean you didn't smell like anything and that can be a great quality. In short, Winter, you were good to me.

But something changed. I think it happened on the day I was run over by a sled and practically knocked unconscious. I resented you, and I think you knew it. The next year, you didn't even show up and Spring had to cover for you. The year after that, you went overboard and inflicted a vicious storm on me every time I needed to travel by taxi. I think you were trying to murder me, and frankly, Winter, that kind of behavior really makes me rethink all those poems I wrote about you in eleventh grade, glorifying you--only to find out that you're a common thug.

This year has shown no improvements. First you were late arriving, and then you seemed to mistake the Hudson Valley for the arctic tundra and the inhabiting humans for woolly mammoths. When I go outside, Winter, I have an immediate brain freeze. You make my eyes water and then you freeze the tears; you make my nose run and then you freeze the snot; you make the shower cold and then you freeze my hair so that it creaks and clinks when I walk to class. In case hypothermia doesn't kill me, you make a death trap of any slope or stairway you can find.

You also freeze the batteries in my camera and that really annoys me.

Because I am the bigger person, and also have the advantage of being sentient, I'm going to forgive you first. Winter, I hereby declare peace on you. This peace will be contingent upon the following:

1) Temperatures may be decided at your discretion but wind factors may not exceed -5.
2) The formation of icy pathways will be considered "acting out".
3) A consistent, yet gentle, pattern of snowfall will be mandatory.
4) Any attempt to emulate the ninth circle of hell, i.e. encasing all living things in ice up to their necks, will automatically end the truce.

I'd really like for us to be friends again, Winter. But you have to do your part.

With equal parts affection and fear,


Anonymous said...

excellent... you really put winter in its place. have you considered a career in intimidation? the mob would pay dearly for your negotiation skills.

Angela said...

Don't give me this winter intimidation bit. You know you fled and are now hiding in a gated community in the steamy and sultry city of L.A. Quite noble Simon. Quite noble.

Simon and Ivan said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Simon and Ivan said...

You have been misled. SIMON lives in the very chilly town of Poughkeepsie, NY. IVAN has fled but he still has every right to comment on winter. Anyone living below Lake Ontario for more than fifteen years retains this right for the rest of their damn life. Besides, icicles and snow crossed Ivan's mind yesteday, I mean, the beach was almost too hot.

Anonymous said...

here, here!! the hudson valley is not the only section of New York State Winter has declared war on, mind you. Near and around Irondequoit Bay has been completely encased with snow and ice during the nights, slush during the day because of salt trucks, and freezing temperatures again in order to make driving a bit more "fun".