Each week you can safely read this column and be assured that the topic will not be political, and there’s a good reason.
Politics just isn’t funny. (Some politicians are, but politics just isn’t). So now that the elections are finally over, we all can concentrate on something that’s really important.
Yep, I’m going to dive right into the middle of the global warming debate. It’s not being political, and it’s not really a debate. You see, for me, it’s been decided. There ain’t such a thing. I’ll explain.
Somehow, in less than a week, our weather went from nice and warm to an arctic blast. For the most part, there’re two types of folks out there: those who like the cold, but not the heat, and those who like the heat, but really, really, really, don’t like being cold during the winter. Guess which one I am?
I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I’m sensitive and have thin skin. Okay, stop laughing. I’ll admit it. I do have thin skin and I’m sensitive, but neither has anything to do with me being cold. Being cold has a lot to do with me being cold. And for those who are under the misguided assumption that cold feet mean a warm heart, I got news for ya. Cold feet means you simply have cold feet–you also have cold legs, cold arms and cold everything else.
Surprisingly, this time I’m not going to trudge down to the basement, fight off spider crickets and retrieve my stool. I’m not gonna stand upon it once again and make a speech about the myth of global warming.
I should, but I’m not going to, and for good reason. Our basement is really cold. Guess The Wife and me need to look into finally installing some heat down there. My cold feet would really appreciate it if we did, and I’m sure the ever-growing family of spider crickets would simply love a warmer place to live.
A friend of mine heard me complaining about our sudden cold snap and said he had the answer: Just do what he did and heat the house with a wood-burning stove. All that cutting, splitting, stacking then toting wood into the house would certainly get my blood flowing. Then I wouldn’t be so cold.
I simply replied, “Getting up and walking across the room and turning up the thermostat on the gas fireplace also gets my blood flowing. Plus, I don’t have to empty any ashes.”
Want to make our two cats happy? Just turn on the gas fireplace during the day. Want to make The Wife happy? Turn on the gas fireplace at night. Want to make me happy? Give me fuzzy bunny slippers, a blanket, and turn the heat up to around 70 degrees. Then I’ll be happy until I open the utility bill. At least looking at it will get my blood flowing and should help to keep me warm.
As for the great debate about whether there is such a thing as global warming, here is my fact-based analysis from almost 55 years of individual research: the older I get, the colder I get. If there was actually global warming going on, then the older I get, the warmer I should be getting.
Here’s hoping we all have a nice warm winter.
[Rick Ryckeley, who lives in Senoia, served as a firefighter for more than two decades and has been a weekly columnist since 2001. His email is storiesbyrick@gmail.com. His books are available at www.RickRyckeley.com.]
