Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
I鈥檝e recently identified a flaw in my plan to be a stay-at-home, empty-nester grandad. My little, tiny, COVID-downsized desk sits in front of a window that is not close to a heating duct, and when the wind and snow blows, it gets cold there. Consequently, if I plan to spend the winter tucked against this window, I鈥檓 going to have to wear long underwear or wrap my legs in a blanket.
Obviously, a blanket will do nothing to enhance my personal self-image. After all, I鈥檓 a man who, despite numerous medical interventions that have kept me alive 15 years longer than my father, looks much younger than my age. OK, maybe I don鈥檛 really look younger, but if I peek into the distorted bathroom mirror from the neck up immediately after a hot, steamy shower, I don鈥檛 look like I鈥檓 pushing through my 70s. It鈥檚 probably the steam, or in my case, just hot air.
I鈥檝e always loved the four seasons. In fact, when I had the chance to live in California, Florida, or for that matter anywhere warm, I was quickly drawn back to the romantic mental images of the metamorphosis that occurs between Pennsylvania鈥檚 seasons.
Unfortunately, due to a lack of coordination, lack of money, or lack of family encouragement to do otherwise, I don鈥檛 really do much of anything that requires me to be outside. I鈥檓 more of a butt and brain kind of human. I sit on my butt and use my brain.
I do get the mail. Sometimes I take the garbage cans down to the curb, and occasionally I鈥檒l stand in line for an ice cream cone.
I鈥檓 not a big hiker because wolves, bears, mountain lions and deer ticks keep me out of the woods. My swimming skills were thwarted by the fact that no one in my family could swim very well, plus the fear of catching polio that kept us out of the local pools.
The last time I rode a bicycle, I ended up getting my heart stented. I鈥檝e never learned to downhill ski, and baseball and basketball practices both conflicted with my paper route. I did love football, but now I鈥檓 kind of old for a pick-up game of football in the backyard. I鈥檇 end up in a permanent walking cast.
I used to like sitting around campfires like the guys in 鈥淏lazing Saddles,鈥� but that only happened a few times a year. Sometimes I鈥檇 walk the dog, but our last dog crossed over the rainbow bridge into pet heaven a decade ago, and our cat is unleased.
I do ride a stationary bike for an hour a day. I guess I could do that outside, but it鈥檚 not the same as camping, hiking, running, biking, skiing and fishing.
My grandfather was a professional gardener and landscaper, but I really hate to get my fingernails dirty, and being in the dirt doesn鈥檛 really move me much. For a few years I had vegetable gardens, but weeding and maintaining them was more work than it was some ethereal experience. Plus, I鈥檓 severely allergic to timothy grass. One allergist said my wife could kill me by simply hiding timothy grass under my sheet.
Consequently, I鈥檝e concluded that I should throw an old topcoat over my legs and pretend I鈥檓 on a commuter flight. That happened a lot on those little freezing planes that sat on the tarmac in subzero weather all night.
I guess I could get a little electric heater.
Anyway, the glory of spring, the incredible freedom of summer, the beauty of fall, and the magnificence of winter have all combined to convince me to stay here through thick and thin. You may have Left Your Heart in San Francisco, but my heart, along with my new bovine-valve, pumps with seasonal joy as I watch a blizzard while I鈥檓 wrapped in a blanket.
Nick Jacobs of Pittsburgh is a Senior Partner with Senior Management Resources and author of the blog healing hospitals.com/.