The sun rose today. It did. I saw it. Predicted it, too. I’ve been right..ran out of fingers and toes to count..let’s just say I have a streak going. I’m going out on the limb and predicting it’ll rise again tomorrow. It’s always best to have a sunny outlook. I’m slowly allowing others to convince me of that.
The weather has been the talk of the tundra the past few days. What else is there to rap about? Politics? Please. They’ll change about the time hell freezes over. Television? Yeah, right. Television is nothing more than a conduit for advertising and we’re increasingly being pelted with a plethora of puky reality shows that are pawned off as entertainment.
It’s been cold here in Myrtle Beach. How cold? While walking the grandest of strands Wednesday, I saw a seagull mistake a beached jellyfish for a popsicle. Call me delusional but upon looking out to sea I thought I saw an iceberg dead ahead.
Only a nut job would’ve been out on the beach looking for sharks’ teeth the past few mornings, so I volunteered. While this weather is repulsive in general, the tides tugged the compulsiveness out of me even as thermometers plunged below freezing.
This morning it was 23 degrees here and The Weather Channel reported that it felt like it was 10 degrees outside. Shiver me timbers. Digits wouldn’t come to mind if I were to describe the way it felt.
But I got by with a little help from my..friend. Common sense got the best of me after an hour and 15 minutes and I realized it would be prudent to return to the ol’ bungalow and avoid frostbite. Master Po tried convincing me to stay.
“Why is it that you shiver, grasshopper?”
“The elements are harsh, master. They are not to my liking.”
“From the crane we learn grace and self control.”
“But I don’t see any cranes. No herons or sandpipers either. I’m cold and I really want to go back to the less-than-titantic temple.”
“Conflict within can be resolved by becoming one with nature, grasshopper. Only then will you achieve harmony of body and mind.”
“But, master, it’s not the shivering that bothers me. My fingers are a whiter shade of pale. I’m not real big on hypothermia.”
“Palmetto trees contend with atmospheric conditions, swaying with the wind. They survive.”
“The palmetto trees are used to being outdoors by now and they have fronds to protect them.”
“Winds blow. The tide flows. The dunes remain. Each acts according to its nature.”
“Yep, and I’m warm blooded. Time to split. Are you coming with me or not?”
Apparently Master Po chose “not.” He didn’t answer. He was gone with the icy wind.
It’s not as if I’m living in South Dakota in the midst of winter. I’m lucky to reside in South Carolina, where the subtropic climate is tolerable throughout the year unless hurricanes pay us a visit.
Our perceptions of weather conditions vary depending on where we live. Twenty-three degrees would seem downright balmy in some parts of the country.
My obsession with hunting fossils usually precludes me from submitting to the weather. Responsibilities, appointments and occasional travel are more likely to keep me away from the big pond and I have no qualms with any of the aforementioned. My left knee and hip are eroding, and that does concern me. Rest is a necessity for recuperation.
When I wrote my blog bio in June 2012, I brashly stated that I wouldn’t think of slowing down until I reached 5,000 days of fossil hunting. That was over 500 trips to the beach ago and I’m still 780 days short. Now time is starting to do my thinking as it narrows the gap on my lead. That doesn’t mean I’m going to waste any energy looking in the rearview mirror. Age-induced erosion is as natural as the weather.
(Bum’s rap: Master Po was a character on the early ’70s show “Kung Fu.” He was a Shaolin priest who taught Kwai Chang Caine. Master Po is also a figment of my imagination. There are a few reality shows that I like. “Pawn Stars” and “American Pickers” come to mind.)