How many miles have I walked? How many girls have I kissed? How many times has someone told me they loved me? How many hours have I spent driving?
On my Friday evening commute home this week, these were the thoughts floating around in my head. Deep in nostalgia, with Cutting Crew playing that song I still love on the satellite radio 80s channel, I began to wonder about the statistics of my life. What if I had counted . . . everything? I could look back and instantly know how many Taco Bell burritos I’ve eaten, how many times I truly cried tears of joy, and how many pennies have passed through my hands.
Others may not care, but me; I constantly judge myself. I thought about how wonderful it would be to quantify everything in my life. A month away from turning 44, I’ve had an amazing life. I’ve achieved much (though I have so much more to do), I’ve failed more times than perhaps I care to remember, and I’ve tasted victory—sometimes so sweet I could have died happy, right then and there. But how well have I really done?
I have a house and a good job and a future that is becoming brighter every day. I have a wonderful son and an amazing wife (more on her in an upcoming entry). I have the best Golden Retriever on the planet and my list of friends often seems endless. But if I look back on my life thus far, would I be happy with the numbers? Would I be pleased with how many doors I’ve held open for strangers? Would I be shocked at the number of beers I’ve consumed? And how disappointed would I be to discover that I’ve paid far fewer compliments to others than I could have?
And how cool would it be to look at a video record of any moment of my life? To relive the birth of my son; my first 300 game when I was 18; the first time I had sex (well, maybe not that one). It would be invaluable to me to be able to generate strong reminders of what I am capable of, both in success and in failure. I can think of no greater motivator.
I am on the verge of some serious changes in my life. It feels as though a brand new chapter is about to begin. A career enhancement that I hope will turn into a brand new career itself. My re-entry into bachelorhood (as I said, more on that later). New beginnings and big plans. And with that outlook comes this retrospective. Have I learned enough not to make the same mistakes? Have I discovered keys to success?
I don’t know. If only I would have counted.
The Seasons Simplified
June 1st, 2010I have been saying for a long time that a much simpler definition of the four seasons would benefit those of us who care about such things. And fortunately, today is a perfect day to explain my theory of how the seasons should be, because, eh hmm, it’s the first day of Summer (by my theory anyway). Granted, I doubt I’m the first to come up with such a simple scheme, but I’ve not read this stuff anywhere else, so I’ll just claim authorship of the idea and hope I don’t get sued.
There are twelve months in a year. There are four seasons in a year. Four divides into twelve evenly (how convenient). Thus, each of the four seasons should be exactly three months in duration. Let’s start from the beginning.
Spring – March 1 – May 31
In Ohio, Spring can be (and usually is) finicky. I’ve seen 70-degree weather, as well as snow, in all three of these months during the 42 years that I’ve lived in the Midwest (and dammit, I wish they would stop including Ohio in the Midwest. This is the lower end of the Northeast, and now I think I might have material for another blog entry). Still, Winter has usually come to a close by March, and one starts to feel refreshed and alive–or at least, the feeling of urgency to clean out the garage. Why wait until all the snow is gone? Start now! Perhaps our reluctance to continue Winter will force the bad weather to subside. And to quench your thirst on these warm Spring days, try Magic Hat’s Vinyl Spring Lager!
Summer – June 1 – August 31
This is self-explanatory, don’t you think? Don’t tell me Summer doesn’t start until the 21st. That’s crap. I don’t really care what the planets are doing and where the sun is and all that scientific stuff. All I know is that I’m hot when I’m outside, the air conditioning is on inside, and the local grocery store is stocking Pyramid Curve Ball Blonde Ale It’s Summer.
Autumn – September 1 – November 30
The kids in schools public and private are now back in class. This is the first and most-important indication that Summer is now over. Sure, it might still be warm out, but the leaves are just waiting for color change and eventual death by falling. No one is taking vacations in September. We are all back to work and getting ready to enjoy the greatest tradition of Autumn; football. This is my favorite season of the year in Ohio. It’s not too cold, the colors are beautiful, snuggling is no longer a sticky mess, and soon, The Great Lakes Brewing Company will release the new batch of Christmas Ale. It doesn’t get much better.
Winter – December 1 – February 28 (or 29)
Ah yes, the season of ice, slush, sniffles and auto accidents! The snow is in full force, and no one (except for our crazy children) really wants to go outside for any reason. Wait, skiing is fun. As is sledding if you do it right (that’s a whole different topic). Oh, and ice skating. And hockey. Come to think of it, there are a lot of reasons to go outside during the winter. Promise me something, though. Be a man and use a snow shovel. Do you really need to drop $500 on a snow blower? Burn off the winter weight and get your lazy ass to the driveway. And bring the kids. I mean, why did you make them if they can’t help you with the chores? And when you’re sitting in front of the fire later, watching football and munching on Combos and Ruffles with French Onion dip, be comforted in the fact that Spring will arrive less than two months after the Super Bowl.
And there you have it. Could it be easier? No more pondering the Vernal Equinox. No more concern over when the Winter Solstice might take place. Four simple seasons, well-defined, simple to remember, and hey, they make sense.
Now go forth and pass this along to friends and family. Never mind the confused looks of derision you might receive. You know this is the way it should be, and that’s all that matters.
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