The Rear End

The Cold

something strangely chilling about this year’s winter

Mike Paulus, illustrated by Beth Czech |

Well, it’s official – by my own calculations, this is the coldest Wisconsin winter in the history of all humanity. It’s a fact you don’t need to look up. Even the hardy, outdoorsy people in my life have been complaining about this year’s coldness. In the face of butt-numbingly frigid weather, these resilient individuals are the people I usually look to for inspiration. They keep me going. They make me ashamed to complain. But this winter, they have failed me.

And so I grumble.

For instance, my normally awesome hair has been totally frizzy and unresponsive to my standard styling regime. Why? The cold. And that’s just the tip of the ill-affected ice berg.

The paint in my house hit its shelf life this winter. Whatever paint the previous owners used on my home’s window sills and door jams – all of it – is flecking and peeling and chipping and driving me freakin’ nuts. Why is this happening? It must be the cold. It has SHOCKED the paint into a horrible, brittle death.

The modest amount forest of hair in my nostrils seems to freeze solid every single time I step outside, causing me to snortle like I’ve got a wad of snot stuck in the back of my throat. Also, I’ve usually got a wad of snot stuck in the back of my throat. And my lips have never been more chapped. Why? It’s the cold.

I can’t put on a T-shirt without it crackling and sparking with electricity. Contrary to public opinion, this is not what normally happens when something comes in contact with my strikingly muscled upper body. If the static-charged sparks don’t electrocute me on contact, and I actually get the shirt on, it clings uncomfortably to my chest like a soul-sucking slim monster. Why must I deal with this? It’s that big dumb jerk The Cold.

My joints ache. My joints ache. I’m constantly complaining about my ankle, and I grunt when I have to, like, bend my knees. I sound like an 80-year-old man (and not the cool kind who still goes golfing and hiking and parasailing). Why is this happening to me? Is it my exceedingly sedentary lifestyle coupled with poor seating options and a total lack of motivation to exercise? Naw. I’m gonna have to go with all this mother-flippin’ cold weather.


    Now, it’s not like we live in one of those places in Canada where people videotape themselves leaning out of their patio door to throw boiling water into the air and watch as it instantly turns into a cloud of ice crystals. It’s not that cold around here. We’re not dogsledding to work. We’re not wearing walrus skin overcoats with thick, furry hoods. And most of us are not claiming the Wisconsin winter as a magic ingredient in the recording of a critically acclaimed indie folk album.

Yet, the cold has penetrated my normally winter-loving life. Usually, I look down on Wisconsinites who complain about snow and cold weather. I wonder why they live here (if not to have an ever-ready subject about which to bitch). Well, this year is just different.

When coupled with the current economic climate, the, um … actual climate is getting harder to handle. Heat bills are higher. Getting out of the house costs more. Our televisions and newspapers offer big, chilly shovelfuls of layoffs and business closings and budget catastrophes. Our neighbors are displaced by house fires. People have been wandering outside and freezing to death. All of this has been pushing us towards disturbing some side effects. Kids are getting neglected. People are painting their faces and attacking other people. People are killing wildlife with their snowmobiles.

All this stuff may not be connected, but this year’s cold is … colder.

Maybe this kind of bad news happens all the time. Maybe there just isn’t a whole lot going on, and the normal tragedies of life around here is all there is to talk about. But people are hurting and they have more to deal with than annoying static electricity and chapped lips. I know everyone’s having trouble, but some are worse off than others. And I’m willing to bet that most people are worse off than whoever’s reading this.

Reach out, just a little, in whatever way you can. Let’s stop complaining. Let’s get warmed up, here. Let’s get through this winter.