The weather’s been a bit blunt lately, not only in the north, but here in the Upstate of South Carolina as well. All the blizzards remind me why my long-suffering wife and I
vacated Iowa when we finished school up there. We made our decision the morning
we let our Bulldog (Dudley) out and, when he didn’t come back as usual, we
looked out the front window and saw him frozen to a fire hydrant.
Which brings me to the nanny-local-weather and the nanny state we live in. They
tell us to dress warmly when it’s cold, take an umbrella when it’s raining,
don’t shovel too much snow when you’re trying to dig out from a blizzard, and
don’t get wet when the weather’s bad. I appreciate the advice. I mean, I would
never have figured any of that out on my own. I did figure out not to put my tongue on
the flagpole when it’s -15 degrees. And I remembered not to ever do that again,
and I learned that independently. Once was enough.
What’s next? Well, I suspect the gummint will start fining people for not
listening to them. Heart attack from shoveling heavy snow? Big fine. Out in a
misty morning without an umbrella. Medium fine. Not dressing warmly when it’s
cold out (THEY will decide what’s cold out), maybe just a warning. Seriously,
if the feds can tell us what kind of light bulbs and commodes we can have . . .