34 Degrees

The thermometer in The Big Ride read 34 degrees this morning on my way to HELL.

That is where I draw the line. Once the temp dips below forty it is officially winter. It is cold.

When the temperature consistently reads thirty something we have crossed the Rubicon. It is too late. There is no turning back. The only thing we have to look forward to is suffering, inconvenience, sickness, discomfort, and a general overall malaise and an ice existence.

I have been remarkably open minded this year as fall plods along and winter lurks.

The weather has been gorgeous. The foliage has been gorgeous. The sun is much lower in the sky now in the morning and as I drive to work the beauty is stunning. Temp in the fifties, even in the forties - I have accepted it.

Thirties and below - no fucking way.

I have sharpened up my viewpoint. I realized that it truly is magical to be surrounded by fall beauty and relatively comfortable temperatures.

I also realized that once snow has covered the landscape my tolerance will die.

Snow sucks. Snow is the ultimate winter punch in the face.

I don't give a damn about "the first snowfall" - it ain't beautiful to me.

If I could only talk to Jesus and convince him that I will accept spring, summer AND fall - but no winter - all of our lives would improve.

Imagine New England without snow. It would become a magical kingdom of love, peace, tolerance, freedom and free nachos.

Jesus would move here because New England would become heaven.

So there you have it. I have accepted fall. I am actually in the process of loving fall. I have evolved. I am emitting less poison into the world and drinking in more of its beauty.

Until November rolls around. Signalling the advent of five solid months of shivering.

Please, Jesus. Please.