Saturday, November 28, 2009

Of Wool Hats and Cormac McCarthy

True confession: being that today is Saturday and being that it is a Saturday that comprises 1/4 of a long holiday weekend, I did not get up at 2:45. I slept in a bit - until 3:30. But I am pleased to report that upon waking up I did something that I did not do as I attempted to break free from the chains of my tryptophan-enhanced coma yesterday morning. This morning I went for my morning jaunt through the 'hood.

It has seemed to be - to date at least - a warmer than usual autumn 'NTSG. Please do not mistake my reporting of the news for a complaint about that particular development. I am not a fan of snow. It makes my commute and the commute of those I love more dangerous. It makes getting around during the course of the day and for several days thereafter more difficult. And - presuming that my landscaper shall charge a fee for snow and ice remediation shall be similar to the fee he charges for grass and leaf remediation, it shall make my winter more expensive - but worth every penny.

This morning the wind was blowing so hard in the backyard that I thought - initially - the sound I was hearing was that of rain. While I normally do not run in the rain (I, like Newman, do not believe in credos) I likely would have had to make an exception this morning, having not gone running since Wednesday morning and having signed up to run in 5K races on back-to-back weekends - with the first one eight days away in Metuchen. I was indeed happy to see - upon opening the door into the back yard so that Rosalita could jump a little lighter, which she does after her morning meeting with that man and his horse - that what I had thought was rain was simply wind. Well, I was happy initially until I stood there for a few seconds and had the chance to informally gauge the wind's ferocity. Then I was.....well, then I was really, really less excited.

Thus, today became the first wool hat day of the autumn. Usually when I run I wear my John Hiatt "Same Old Man" baseball cap, which I love not only because I am a tremendous fan of his musical stylings but for all of the self-created symbolism I have attached to it. It is kinda, sorta my own inside joke. Today however the old ball cap was over-matched. Fortunately my wife, having gone to school on having spent the better part of the past two decades in the close company of an imbecile, had already placed my wool hat in my box o' stuff that sits atop our refrigerator - a box whose 2" x 3" dimensions represent the only space in our entire house that is truly mine - where I found it along with my trusty blinky light and my watch.

When one has the over-sized melon that I have perched on top of one's shoulders, one develops a keen appreciation for just how quickly heat exits the human body through our head. Perhaps if mine was more person-appropriate in its size (as opposed to being small planet-appropriate) I would not go from 98.6 to 0 as quickly as I often feel I do without the proper head cover. And the black wool hat pulled down over my ears completes a look that I am quite confident will soon be sweeping the nation.....one post office wall at a time.

Style be damned - as I always say (or at least apparently mutter under my breath subconsciously every morning judging by how far from the kingdom of sartorial splendor I find myself spending most of my days). My wool hat came in quite handy this morning, thank you very much, when I made the right turn from Pierrepont onto Harris and into the teeth of the wind (an expression I must confess that I have never understood for why would wind have teeth? At one time in history was there a spate of unexplained incidents of children and old people being gnawed upon while (a) outside; and (b) alone?), which did not relent for a moment between my entry onto Harris and my exit from it when I banged the left turn onto Delaware. It did what it always does. It kept the over-sized crock pot that I call a head toasty warm, which in turn kept the rest of me toasty warm.

.....Well all of me except for my knees, which were cold because the shorts I was wearing afford them insufficient coverage. I cannot make the switch to sweatpants yet. But January will be here before I know it.

-AK

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