After spending the past few days feeling like I’d been donkey-kicked in the noggin, I popped a Vitamin D this morning. Finally, I feel better. It’s (-11) degrees outside and I think my body is telling me it can’t handle much more winter.
I have to tell myself it won’t be long until the lakes thaw and the Minnesota Twins open Target Field. The snow? That’s going to be here until July, but we’ll make do. The parks will open along with the golf courses, while shorts and flip flops will replace long underwear, slacks and dress shoes. Jack Johnson, the Zac Brown Band and Jimmy Buffett will provide the soundtrack. Finally, Twin Citizens will be able to park on both sides of the road, no just the odd-numbered side.
And me? I won’t have to pop Vitamin D pills to get my mind right.
Had a nice chat with a taxi driver the other night coming home from the airport. He was born in Somalia but moved to Minneapolis when he was 11. (He must’ve been in his early 20s.) I told him this was my first winter back in Minneapolis after living in Portland last year.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “We never get used to it, do we? Just when you think you’re used to it, it’s spring.”
And then it’s warm. Insufferably warm. Pollen coats cars, sidewalks and windows and the air conditioning can’t get cold enough. Your dashboard nearly buckles under the harsh sun rays and just when the temperature becomes comfortable, the wind comes up. There’s thunderstorms – big, rumbling, untimely thunderstorms to interrupt softball games, picnics and weddings. And the humidity. That godawful humidity, only made worse by the swarms of mosquitoes.
We never get used to it, do we?