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Charlie Hatton
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Say It in Kelvin — It Sounds Warmer That Way

Man, I have really got to start watching the weather. Or looking up the forecast online, or something. Jeez.

You see, I’m typically a ‘no coat’ kind of guy. I feel like I’ve explained this in detail around here somewhere before, but suffice to say that my aversion to jackets and jacket-like apparel boils down to two points:

  • I don’t get cold easily
  • I don’t like wearing a coat for the twelve seconds from the door to the car, and the car to the door, then having to deal with the thing — sitting on it, keeping track of it, remembering it — for the ten hours in between

Honestly, it’s really the second one that gets me worse. Sure, sure, the first one is relevant, too — I must be one of those fiery, hot-blooded muchachos you hear so much about.

(And really, ladies, wouldn’t that explain an awful lot?

Wha? No? Well, fine. Poop on you, then. I can pretend I’m a hot-blooded muchacho if I want to. Harrumph.)

But it’s the inconvenience of wearing a coat that really puts me out. Honestly, what else in your life would you put up with getting so little use out of, compared to the amount of time and effort you spend not using it? It’s like having to strap your belt around your neck all morning, before you’re allowed to use it to hold your pants up. Or walking around all day with a condom taped to your forehead, before you can use it for the twelve seconds you’re gonna need it. Or women walking around with bags crammed full of makeup, in case there’s a five-minute period during the day when they might want it. Or… oh. Right. Yeah, never mind that last one. I forget that people really do that. Wow.

(Oh, and never mind that ‘twelve seconds’ thing up there, either. Surely you must realize that doesn’t apply to a fiery muchacho like myself. No, no.

No, senoritas, I would be at least twenty seconds in the lovers’ game, before tuckering out and needing a siesta. At least. Carumba.)

(Okay, that’s just about enough of the muchacho thing, I think. I’m starting to creep myself out. Plus, I don’t know any other Spanish words except ‘gordita’, and I don’t even wanna think about how I’d try to work that one in there. Carumba, indeed.)

So, where the hell was I? Oh, right — coats. Sorry, got off track there.

So, coats. Not a fan, in general. Too little bang for the buckola, and I tend to not really feel chilly in the first place until the mercury dips below about forty or so. As long as we’re just talking about a trip to work and back, of course, and maybe out for a quick lunch. Certainly, with enough exposure, even that kind of temperature will get to me sooner or later. I’m not gonna strip down to my boxers and dance the watusi in the middle of my street in forty-degree weather, or anything like that.

(Not again, anyway. That did get a bit nipply, after a while. Plus, now there are the restraining orders to deal with. Meh.)

But under normal circumstances, I just don’t think a coat is terribly necessary. Under normal circumstances. Reasonable conditions, like say, on the good side of fourteen degrees.

Which it wasn’t today. Not even close.

Only I didn’t know, becuase I didn’t check the weather this morning. I simply figured it’d be about like it was yesterday — twenties, maybe thirties. Or the day before — same thing, with a little snow. Or the day before that — twenties, maybe thirties. Or the day before that — and guess what it was like then, eh?

I think you can see how I could have been lulled into a sense of complacency here. This is New England — it’s only rarely going to be above forty between — oh, I don’t know — August and April every year. But it’s also not often really, really cold, either — because when it’s truly frigid out, then it can’t snow. And there’s nothing the skies in New England love to do more than shit twelve pounds of snow per square inch of earth beneath them, to make life more ‘interesting’ for those of us here on the ground. So you can pretty well expect a certain ‘twenties, maybe thirties’ type of day around here, most of the time.

But, again, not today, apparently. Today, the temperature was six at one point, officially.

That’s right, six. Oh-six. Zero zero zero six. Point zero. That’s just damned unreasonable cold, people. There’s no way you should expect that kind of cold; I can’t even see how those meterologists coule predict it. Honestly, do you know how often you’d be wrong — dead fucking wrong — if you walked around, telling people that it would be six degrees tomorrow? Assuming you’re not actually living in the Arctic frigging Circle, that is. Pretty much always, is how often. Six is just stupid cold. There’s no point. It helps nobody. Stupid.

Of course, speaking of ‘stupid‘, then there’s the guy who didn’t check the weather, and left the house today with no coat. Like he does almost every day, but — dammit! — every day isn’t six fricking degrees when you walk out into it. Every day doesn’t freeze your eyelids shut and turn your fingers into icicles and *schhhhhhlurp* your testicles up near your lungs, looking for body heat. I’m a stubborn little bastard, but if you tell me it’s fricking six, then yeah, I’ll wear a coat. Maybe even mittens. That’s cold shit.

Only, nobody did tell me. And luckily, all I had to do was get to the car and back today. I can’t even imagine traipsing around for lunch, or getting out to pump gas, or walking the dog today. I think the dog would even understand:

Bitch, it’s six. You don’t wanna be out there, either. You can piss tomorrow. Now go lie down or something.

And maybe it’s getting better; I don’t know. I see on Yahoo — now that I’m checking the damned weather — that it got all the way up to sixteen today at one point. Woo fuckin’ hoo, people. That’s sad, when you’re just happy to be out of single damned digits. Charlie no likey.

But maybe that’ll lead to a warming trend, or a high pressure isobar, or whatever those meteorolo-weenies are always on about that heatas things up. Hell, I’d take thirty right now, even with a chilly New England wind. It still beats the freezy pants off of six, fer chrisakes.

And hell, if this keeps up, I might have to go find my coat. Damn. That’s just wrong.

Permalink  |  7 Comments

7 Responses to “Say It in Kelvin — It Sounds Warmer That Way”

  1. #Debi says:

    We had much the same kind of weather here yesterday. Thank God the wind wasn’t blowing, because I had to walk across campus in that. Today the weather seems to have come to its senses, and is back up to a relatively respectable 30…I did hear someone say that we’re supposed to get 0 degree weather this weekend–I almost punched her…

  2. Here’s the answer to your dressing for the weather needs..

    PS. Love your blog!

  3. Grins says:

    I find coats bothersome most of the time too, but I live in North Carolina so it doesn’t tend to be an issue for most of the year. I was a bit jolted back when I had a 30 degree yesterday, but 6? Brrrr. Friend of mine in Canada said it was -31 the other day with the wind chill. Who survives in that besides polar bears and penguins? Oh, and as for my dog, she abhors rain and frigid temperatures. She gets all excited when you go to the door, but the minute she encounters the weather she stops and looks up at you like “You don’t possibly think I am going outside in that do you?”, then turns around, walks to the sofa and plops down for a nap.

  4. Jade says:

    LMAO ok, spit coffee everywhere, thanks man.

    I do understand your thing with coats, however. I am the same way. Now, coming from Phoenix Arizona where we are lucky to dip below 56 degrees on any given winter day, coats aren’t generally a necessity in the desert. We do have the occasional “hell froze over” last night kind of day where the car doors are frozen shut, the cat’s tongue is stuck to the tree, and what not where one would need to bundle before heading out into the desert. Yet, that only lasts until the sun is high enough in the sky, maybe an hour max. Then you’re stuck with dealing with the coat. Again, back to the hassles of a coat.

    I will try to send some sun your way. Actually, I would rather. It would be nice to experience winter for more than the stated 12 seconds! BTW, I think you’re a true hot blooded muchacho! ;-)

    I happen to like the cold. Gives me a reason to “need” to be heated up. Without using a jacket, mind you.

  5. Krista says:

    oh my goodness! Your my coat twin. I’m nicknamed the little furnace. Its has to be around 30 for me to flinch and I, like you, fail to watch the weather and hope for the best. But man, this weeks been brutal!

  6. rent says:

    Singles digits are nice to get out of, unless it’s -10.

  7. special k says:

    6 degrees is cold? Last week here (in Calgary) it was -45C, which is in Fahrenheit is…wait for it…-49 degrees.

    I’m not a coat person, either, but I kinda have to be. Feh.

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