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By Dennis Carlson
Global Warming? Sure, I believe it’s getting warmer. Maybe in freaking June, but not in the immediate future. It can’t happen fast enough for me. I’m so pro-global warming that I let my Jeep run for a half hour before I even leave the driveway. I don’t know much about carbon footprints, but I wish ours was bigger. Maybe a size 14 triple E.
I wear three layers of Odor Eaters in my shoes. I shoot charcoal briquettes into the sky with a potato gun using aerosol deodorant as a propellant. I like it warm.
My mind was made up about cold weather during the three years I spent in Chicago in 1978. You may say 1978 was only one year, but the calendars froze and didn’t budge a day until 1981. I and another hapless Navy newbie departed Orlando, Fla.’s balmy 72 degrees on a plane to Frozen, Hellinois. It was 50 degrees below zero when we arrived in Chi-chi-chi-ca-go.
As we approached the gate we could hear the skin of the plane creak as it shrank from the cold. That plane didn’t want to be there, either. The cabbie that drove us to Great Lakes Naval Training Center had to scrape the windshield from the inside of the car. A pickup came to get us at the gate to drive us two miles to our barracks. We threw our stuff in back. When we arrived my suit bag broke in half like it was made of glass.
We stayed in a three-story cinder block affair with a courtyard in the middle. I think it was used for cold weather survival training that we hadn’t signed up for. I haven’t mentioned the snow. It filled the courtyard to a depth of about 12 feet. Guys would go up to the third deck and jump out the windows wearing their unbuttoned black raincoats. They looked like Batman. They’d swim through the snow and find a window where someone would drag them in. They kept it up on a regular basis while avoiding the barracks manager.
Sometime in March one of them landed on a concrete picnic table and had to be Medevac’d out.
A car parked in the snow zone got covered up under a giant pile of white and wasn’t dug out until May.
I’m going to heat my house with burning Styrofoam. Al Gore can lump it.
Denny Carlson shares the sentiment that Old Man Winter needs to be gone … for good. Write him at firstname.lastname@example.org.