And in response to Dan's question - no I don't Facebook, but I'm thinking about it. Who can persuade me?
And note: Dan mentioned -8 with a wind chill of -45. Earlier Jonathan asked me about cold, and I thought I had a good idea. Then I went to Chicago this past weekend on bidness.
It's important to know a few things about my body and cold temperatures. First, two years ago I thought 40 was cold. It is not. Saturday morning I was headed on a plane to Chicago and the pilot comes on and says it's -2 with a wind chill of -50. Now you can't fathom that. I have since revised my thoughts on what exactly is cold by 30 degrees. 20 is chilly. 15 is annoying. 10 is cold. Anything lower than 10 degrees, I had assumed, all felt the same and what does it matter?
Nay. Walking in -30 (wind chill, as it had "warmed up" by the time I got off the plane) is the absolute worst. There is nothing you can do. Keep in mind I found a Houston Astros beanie in November, and was very excited about it. Beanies are different when they're to be used in Houston and when they're to be used in the Northeast. In Houston, they're an accessory. They need to be functional. This Astros beanie is the type that, as your face moves (as it does when smiling, laughing, blinking) it runs up your head so that, if not checked, will sit on top of your head like yarmulke. This is worthless when it's -30. The wind blows monosyllabic grunts out of you. It's your fight leaving your body.
I saw a woman outside a Starbucks don a ski mask not unlike what would be seen in a raid in Belfast. I didn't know if she wanted a latte or for prisoners to be released. You just don't care. That's what cold does: it takes your fight.
So anyway, I'm in Chicago, and at dinner I eat koobideh (pictured left). I have a bad habit of not reading all of the description of an item on the menu. What I really need is a menu for illiterates (what, I can't say "illiterates?" Like they're going to read it?), with pictures of meals, because I can't be trusted. Within 30 minutes of eating this koobideh, I was extremely ill. And who wouldn't be? Look at it. If I saw a picture of this, no way would I think, "Umm yes. I'll have that." Turns out it's Iranian minced lamb. I was disappointed to find that the meat was something as normal as lamb. Possible scenarios as to what the turd-meat could have been were as follows: Donkey leg, aardvark snout, monkey thighs, sullied goat tail, elephant trunk.At 2:40 in the morning - the morning before I'm to be representing my employer at the Cubs Convention at the Chicago Hilton - I get up and proceed to reject the koobideh. And every ten minutes after that, I reject some more of it, until I pass out from dehydration and sleep fitfully, alternating freezing and sweating.
So I wake up and meet my co-workers in the lobby at 8am. I got up at 5:45, just because I couldn't deal with it anymore. I'm pale and sweating and wobbly, and eat a bowl of oatmeal. Then I try to keep it together at work, and keep it together in -30 walking, no, staggering up Michigan Avenue, freezing cold.
And just to see what my intestines were made of, we decided to head to the 96th floor of the Hancock Tower. Note: if your intestines are squeezing the **** out of you, don't get on an express elevator taking you 960 feet up.
They (The Weasels, as they were dubbed) held off until we returned home. I slept a lot on Monday and this morning had the most unbelievable bloody nose you could imagine. David Caruso would have been whipping his glasses off left and right at the dna I spilled on the floor. Then, this morning, I'm chewing a piece of gum, and the gum pulls out a filling from a root canal I got 10 years ago. I have the Grand Canyon in my mouth from a hollow, dead tooth. Then I had another nosebleed.
It's only 21 degrees right now at home, but at least it ain't -30.
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