Old Man Winter. Ya either hate him....or you really f'n hate him.
If you live in a part of the world that has harsh winters, then you would be quite familiar with this evil character. He takes no prisoners. He will come at you when you least expect it. Like last week for instance, when ol' gramps decided to do a number on me.
I needed to go outside to bring a few recyclable items to the bin, stationed at the end of my driveway. No meteorologist had warned of the violent wind gusts that were to come. I put on my expensive winter boots and headed out.
The moment I got to the top of the driveway, I lost complete control. Much to my surprise, the driveway was iced over. And, like a flat escalator at the airport, the sneaky, devious Old Man, decided to take me for a ride. I was literally surfing, but this was no safari. Objects in hand went flying up in the air, as I tried my best to remain balanced, in order to avoid falling right down like Humpty f'n Dumpty. The driveway being sloped, I gained speed as I made my way right into the big, blue recycling bin. Badda Boom!
Now, this ordeal should have ended there. The lesson had been learned.
But no, the geriatric rodent made sure to send me more grief. The big bin flipped over, right onto my sorry ass. Egg yolk, dirty paper plates, unemptied bottles, cans of pop, and mango juice drizzled all over me, as I sat there screaming and kicking at everything in sight. Oh, how I wished I could grab the Old Man by the jugular, but it was to no avail. I had to accept defeat, once again, and like so many before me, to the wrinkly, grey-haired geezer. I humbly crawled my way back up the driveway.
But we all know that the Old man has a multitude of other tricks about his filthy sleeves. On a typical wintry Montreal day, you'll have violent gusty winds or hail that will blind you, extreme dryness that will turn your skin into that of a crocodile's, watery eyes (from the crying, not the elements), and short, dark days that suck the very life out of you. These and many more, have always been part of his wicked and dishonorable repertoire.
But hey, embrace it they say. Bundle up, dress warmly, and take advantage of the beauty that winter brings. Bite your tongue! Honestly, can someone please put a muzzle on those people? I have tried the layering bit: 3 pairs of socks, gloves over gloves, hand and feet warmers (yes, it's a thing), undershirt under a wool sweater, under a jacket, under another winter jacket, heck, 30 layers later, I was a Catelli lasagna. At least now, big as the Good Year Blimp, I stood no chance of flying away like Mary Poppins (believe me the winter winds here are violent, pretty sure I saw a Polar Bear in the air the other day).
Countless times I have arrived at the office, or at a client meeting, with my hair completely disheveled, looking like Kramer from Seinfeld. Other less fortunate times, covered with snow from head to toe, I'd make an appearance as the Abominable Snowman.
So yeah, maybe you folks who tell us we should love winter, can begin to understand why many of us prefer to give it the cold shoulder. In the words of one of the famous Minions : "No I don't want to build a FREAKN snowman, I want to build a damn sandcastle, on a beach, in the sand, and where there is ABSOLUTELY NO SNOW!"