F*&$ing Cold
My wonderful sister, Carrie Lynn was fond of telling a joke where a baby polar bear is walking through the Arctic with his father and he asks:
"Dad are you sure we're polar bears?"
He asks this question over and over until the father polar bear says:
"Of course we're polar bears! I'm a polar bear! Your mother is a polar bear! So you're a polar bear! Why do you keep asking?"
And the baby polar bear says:
"Cause I'm f&*$ing cold!!"
That's the way it is here in Buffalo.
People say:
"You're from Buffalo! You're used to it!!"
Well.
"I'm f&*$ing cold!!"
We were talking out on the construction site the other day as the wind whipped through and froze the freaking snot to our faces.
"My face gets cold," The young lad standing in front of me said.
His face was the color of Superman's cape.
"Really?" I asked. "I didn't notice."
And for me the problem is in getting dressed for the day.
Two pairs of socks.
A pair of long underwear.
(Two things about the long underwear: I was looking for mine and my beautiful wife said, "I have a pair." - Was I supposed to use them as a thong? and secondly...I always think of my Grandpa Clifford because he had long underwear on each day as he worked out on the railroad. I just recall him telling me about the bitter Buffalo cold).
I hear you, Gramps.
Then the shirts:
At least three of them.
The Carhartt jacket over the top of the entire mess.
Gloves.
OJ style cap.
Ready to go!
"This sucks," one of the other construction dudes said to me. "If I were you I'd figure out a way to stay in your office on days like this."
"What good am I doing in there?" I asked.
"That's why we listen to you," he said.
So.
Sometimes it's worth it to go out in the cold.
As stupid as it seems to be.
I feel for that freaking polar bear.
"Dad are you sure we're polar bears?"
He asks this question over and over until the father polar bear says:
"Of course we're polar bears! I'm a polar bear! Your mother is a polar bear! So you're a polar bear! Why do you keep asking?"
And the baby polar bear says:
"Cause I'm f&*$ing cold!!"
That's the way it is here in Buffalo.
People say:
"You're from Buffalo! You're used to it!!"
Well.
"I'm f&*$ing cold!!"
We were talking out on the construction site the other day as the wind whipped through and froze the freaking snot to our faces.
"My face gets cold," The young lad standing in front of me said.
His face was the color of Superman's cape.
"Really?" I asked. "I didn't notice."
And for me the problem is in getting dressed for the day.
Two pairs of socks.
A pair of long underwear.
(Two things about the long underwear: I was looking for mine and my beautiful wife said, "I have a pair." - Was I supposed to use them as a thong? and secondly...I always think of my Grandpa Clifford because he had long underwear on each day as he worked out on the railroad. I just recall him telling me about the bitter Buffalo cold).
I hear you, Gramps.
Then the shirts:
At least three of them.
The Carhartt jacket over the top of the entire mess.
Gloves.
OJ style cap.
Ready to go!
"This sucks," one of the other construction dudes said to me. "If I were you I'd figure out a way to stay in your office on days like this."
"What good am I doing in there?" I asked.
"That's why we listen to you," he said.
So.
Sometimes it's worth it to go out in the cold.
As stupid as it seems to be.
I feel for that freaking polar bear.
Comments