Experiments in Chaos—Failures from April 27, 2015

So, it was January. It was probably January for you too but, where I live, it was especially January. In fact, I'm inclined to believe it was more January than it's been in a long while. Anyway, it was January enough for me. I had just walked from my apartment to the library, where I've been getting my Internet access lately. It's about a fifteen or twenty minute walk, and by the time I got inside, I'd relived that old joke about the polar bears.

It seems there's this polar bear cub walking along with his mother, and he keeps asking if she's absolutely sure he's 100% polar bear, if maybe he might have some black bear or grizzly in him. After about the third or fourth time, she finally says that she's sick of answering that question, that she's all polar bear, his father is all polar bear, and he is all polar bear, and why does he keep asking that question? And he says, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm freezing my ass clean off."

Anyway, I got my laptop set up, and went online to check my email, and glanced at the headlines on that page. And there, in bold type, was the phrase "2014 Officially Hottest Year on Record." So there I was, still bundled in my coat and hat, with my fingertips still numb, and I need to tell you something: Don't bother talking to me about global warming in January. Because, just like that polar bear cub, I'm freezing my ass clean off. Tell me about global warming in July when I might care, but I probably won't.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't believe in global warming. I can't think of any reason why so many scientists would lie to me about what the temperature is, so I'm inclined to believe they're telling me the truth. And I'm sure it's an ecological catastrophe of epic proportions, just like everyone says it is. And that's why I feel really guilty about not caring. But here I am, not caring. You see, as I'm sitting here in my apartment typing this, it's April. But it's certainly not as April as it could be, and I'm wearing thermal skivvies, ski socks, and I'm feeling solidarity with that polar bear cub. And I only wish that, if we're going to have global warming, I could get my share of it up front. As I've mentioned around forty or fifty times, I'm not a people person. But in the winter, even I feel a need to seek out others. Not for companionship, I just want the body heat.

Wind chill is fun, too. Now, I lost some weight last year in a misguided attempt to become less unhealthy. (I like to have realistic goals.) So I'm not as heavy as I was, fine, but I'm a grown man for pity's sake. And a grown man ought not be getting pushed around by the wind unless there's a tornado advisory. Which there probably is somewhere, but not so much around my neck of the woods.

To add insult to injury, the weather folks say it's not my imagination that the winters in my area are getting colder and lasting longer. The reason? Why, global warming, of course. Apparently, all these rising temperatures are making El Niño fondle El Nintendo or some perverted climate thing, I'm not a scientist, look it up if you care. All I know is, global warming is the reason I'm freezing my ass clean off. I'm not sensing any irony here. I'm not sensing any irony at all. I won't sense much of anything until my toes thaw out.

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