For the past five years or so, and most especially for the year or thereabouts following my hysterectomy, I have been somewhat plagued with hot flashes. At times they have been so severe that I have found myself completely drenched in sweat and burning up for no apparent reason. Since my Dr.s expressly forbid me to take any kind of hormone replacement, given my history, I have to deal with it. I’ve been tempted at times to sit in the freezer, I often (even in winter) use a small table fan at night, and it has to be extremely cold for me to even entertain the idea of wearing a sweater or heavy shirt. Over the past year or so my heat sensitivity has improved somewhat, but even now I am more likely to overheat than to freeze. The only exception to this is my hands. My hands still freeze very easily even if the rest of my body is burning up. Go figure.
Even given the inconvenience of menopausal heat sensitivity, I can’t bring myself to wear shorts outside in the winter. Every time I see young punks outside in shorts- even the Bermuda type- and/or flip-flops when it’s below freezing, I really have to wonder. I know damned well the girls are too young for menopause and the boys don’t really have any excuse other than maybe the man-fur on their legs does something as far as insulation, but I doubt it.
Despite the wistful imaginings of the global warming crowd, Ohio is not a tropical paradise. Maybe for three months out of the year we have near-tropical weather, as in stygian heat, 100% humidity and plenty of rain, but it’s not year-round. The remainder of the year is still 100% humidity, and plenty of precipitation, but cold, and at times that precipitation is freezing rain or snow.
The lesson in this: It’s February. Put on some damned pants. At least until the end of May, when it might actually be warmer than fifty degrees. I blame Target for putting the bathing suits out in January. Just because it’s currently on the store shelf does not mean that it’s the appropriate clothing item for the season.
Some clothing items are never appropriate, regardless of the season.
Yesterday I was reminded of why I very seldom go on shopping excursions with Jerry. I hate shopping anyway, and I loathe crowds. I am surprised I volunteered myself into that one, but he always likes it better if I drive. It’s always better for him if it’s my car and my gasoline, and me driving, for two reasons. One, my car gets far better mileage than his truck, and two, I am less likely to get lost. He refuses to drive my car (good for me in the grand scheme of things, as I really don’t like anyone driving my car) because I have a concealed carry permit. If the cops would pull him over in my car, they would run the plate and assume that there are weapons in the vehicle. It is also likely that anyone driving my car would be approached by the cops at gunpoint, which would really freak him out. I know if I’m pulled over that I’m supposed to put my hands on the wheel and let the cop know whether or not I’m packing, but Jerry has been known to get lippy with cops, which is never a good idea, even if you’re right. A good friend once told me that there are two good reasons why you won’t overpower, outsmart, or outrun cops: Smith & Wesson and Motorola. One cop is always going to be armed, and one cop always has that nice little radio to call for backup. It’s better to comply with their requests and figure out the details later.
I’ve never been a fan of gun control. I’ve never been a fan of government absolving people from the consequences of their poor decisions either, but what do I know? If the government seems to think that encouraging stupidity as well as shielding people from the consequences of their own stupidity, have suddenly become civil rights, then I guess it is a good idea (for the law-abiding, rational person) to be armed and to protect oneself even if it is necessary to go through some red tape and hoop jumping. Thankfully the Framers of the Constitution were a lot smarter than the current crop of jackoffs holding office, and- at least for now- the Second Amendment still stands. I could go on for days on this particular tangent, but I’m not going to. Unlike a good number of politicians, I’ve read the Constitution. I believe I have a pretty solid understanding of it. If you take your time and sift through some of the archaic language, it’s not terribly difficult to understand. Government has responsibilities, but more importantly it is supposed to have boundaries.
The weather was quite cold and windy yesterday, but it was sunny for a change, so I had to deal with both Jerry’s waywardness and unduly crowded stores. By the time we got home I was thoroughly worn out not so much from walking or driving, but by chasing Jerry about and weaving in and out of crowded aisles and displays. Jerry is not terribly easy to keep track of, as he is prone to wander off and then I am not only manuevering my way through the crowds but I’m trying to find him as well. It’s a sort of a twisted three dimensional version of “Where’s Waldo,” only it’s “Where’s Jerry,” and unlike Waldo, he keeps moving.
If I could I would get Jerry one of those kid leashes specifically for shopping excursions or times when I have to take him out in public and I know it will be difficult to retrieve him. It’s a thought. Or I could modify one of the Flexi leashes we have for the dogs.
4 thoughts on “Ohio is Not a Tropical Paradise, (So Put on Some Pants,) the Second Amendment, and Navigational Exploits”
Jerry is a man after my own heart. So many dudes are have this macho trip about having to drive the vehicle. Clearly Jerry has put aside his machismo in favor of convenience. If the wife is driving, you can get liquored up BEFORE going to the store.
I should say that doing that very thing is how I once ended up with a “Juice Newton’s Greatest Hits” CD. True story.
Juice Newton. That’s funny. “Angel of the Morning” wasn’t bad, but otherwise, what were you thinking?
If I’m driving it doesn’t matter how drunk, hungover or directionally challenged Jerry is. Yesterday he was actually sober, which makes it harder for me to chase him around in the stores. When he’s drunk he usually just wanders around in a circle and stays close to the men’s room. I’m tempted to make him wear a hot pink toque so I can spot him easier.
Clearly, I wasn’t thinking. To this day I don’t recall making the purchase, just being in possession of the CD the next morning. Witnesses later confirmed that I paid money for it. Anyway, counting “Angel,” Juice has 2 good songs (I’m counting “Love’s Been A Little Hard On Me” and “It’s A Heartache”–two guilty pleasures–as .5 good songs each).
To get J into hot pink, just tell him the Miami Vice look is coming back. Hey, it might.
Jerry is very much into the Straight Man dress code, which at no time has ever included any shade of pink, including pastels. Especially pastels. However, the deer hunting section of Dick’s Sporting Goods (yes, a real store, and the irony of the name is not lost on me) has safety orange toques that hunters wear to help prevent them from having their heads blasted off by their drunken hunting buddies. Safety orange is an acceptable Straight Man color (as are blue, brown and black) so he might wear one of those.
I can try.