OK … a short time ago, during Chicago’s record-breaking visit by the Polar Vortex, I wrote an essay suggesting we should all just grow up about the snow and sub-zero temperatures. At that time, I made a comparison between the extremes of living in the Midwest and the southern tip of the Florida peninsula.
I take it all back.
I’ve had it. And it’s only mid-January. What gives with this snow? What did we all do in some past Chicago-life to deserve this?
Since there is no controlling the weather, I give the only thing I have to offer: a piggy-back song, dedicated to all the great citizens of Chicago-land, my Esteemed Midwest Brothers and Sisters. I offer it to everyone who’s already weary of slipping, shoveling, falling, chiseling away at an entombed car, losing a glove, being blown backward, spinning tires, etc.
With humble apologies to the Eurythmics, I give you:
Here Comes That Snow Again
(sung to the tune of Here Comes the Rain Again)
Here comes that snow again, falling on my head like an injury, Blanketing my world, causing new commotion.
I want to walk in the sun again, I want to feel warm breezes; I want to dive into a swimming pool; this white’s made me blue.
Mother Nature, talk to me — what’s up with you? Come on, talk to me. Do something new! Please save me. Move those temps past 32.
Here comes that wind again, pushing on my head like a hurricane; coursing through my veins like an evil potion.
(Here it comes again, here it comes again)
I want to walk on the beach again; I want to see some blue sky; I want to wear my new flip-flops — I can’t wait ’till June.
Mama Nature, talk to me — what the hell’s up with you? C’mon, talk to me! Have mercy! Save me! Or I’m done with you.
A mere five months to go. Let me know how you’re getting through the Season of White. I’m open to suggestions.