Thus spake Curmudgeon: Well, I suppose
we are out of the cold for the winter,
finally. It’s sunny, low humidity;
the grass is kinda green instead of the
usual burnt brown here in the desert and
it’s finally warming up after the lower
edge of a Polar Vortex blasted us un-
mercifully for a week, but it’s really
loud around here and it’s driving me
bananas! We live in an uninsulated second
floor condo and not only have we been
freezing our patooties, but to add to it
guys are stomping around putting on a
new roof and we can hear everything.
My wife and I aren’t the only ones in
our cramped, little place who are sub-
jected to listening to this. The Choco-
late Lab flinches at the incessant pound-
ing and runs to us for comfort. He must
think it’s thunder reminding him of
his days as a hobo after his owner
tossed him unceremoniously from
the car. Guys are tearing apart the
downstairs condo for a do-over while
the owner is living it up on a vacation
in Argentina, where, if I’m not mistak-
en, it is now glorious summer. I guess
some people have all the luck. The
landscape guys are buzzing the com-
plex with their leaf blowers and
the classical music station is playing
the 1812 Overture and it’s about mid-
way through the cannon blasts and
bombing. We envisioned the peace and
tranquility of the desert as we drove
the seemingly endless two thousand
miles just to get here. So, why am
I telling you all this? It’s because
our supposed friends back home don’t
want to hear any of it. Some friends!
Sure, it’s only nine degrees (wind
chill minus 10) and snowing and they
still have a full three more months
of frigid weather, but, hey, I always
admonish people to look on the sunny
side of life and count their many
blessings; what are those lyrics
from the Life of Brian? “Always look
on the bright side of life.” Exactly.
I always do. So, what if it’s 75
degrees here? The sauna is too
hot and the swimming pool is too
cold. And can you believe they
don’t want to hear about this?
What is the big deal, here? Hey,
in contrast, they are snuggled
up all cozy around a nice warm
fire in the fireplaces of their
quiet homes and I just had to get
this off my chest to somebody. And
one last thing, couldn’t Tchaikovsky
have omitted at least one fricking
cannon blast, for Pete’s sake?
Remember, always look on the bright
side of life; I do.