December 18, 2008
Forget the calander…here are five ways you can really tell it is fall in New England.
1) People suddenly forget how to drive. Rain in April, no problem. Rain in December…FREAK OUT. And this is coming from arguably the worst driver to ever recieve a liscence legally.
2)Commutes increase by 20 minutes due to the number of mommies and daddies driving their kids to school. Apparently children born after 1990 have a lower core temerature than anyone born during the Carter or Regan years and have a serious risk of contracting hypothermia if the temperature drops below 40 and they, heaven forbid, have to wait outside. They have also stopped making hats and scarves and mittens or maybe they just don’t sell them at Limited Too.
3) There are pot holes in the road the size of Rhode Island. I don’t know how it is possible to have such large holes in the roads surface with out losing a small un-hatted child. Forget about government works projects developing new roads and infrastructure….lets start by fixing the ones we have got. I and my tires thank you.
4) You are forced to check Accuweather three times a day to see what you should be wearing any time you want to leave your house. 65 and sunny Monday does not mean it won’t be 41 and rainy on Tuesday. Finally get out those rain boots out and they freeze solid on Wednesday when it is a whopping 8. Don’t get too comfortable. Thursday they are calling for 52 with sun showers before that nor’ester moves in on Friday so you better stop for a show shovel on your way home from work.
5) Every local bar and pub has replaced their lovely regular beers on tap with some sort of winter-wonder-fest monstrosity promising to taste of cinnamon, clove or wrapping paper. Even worse, they insist on serving this potpourri of alcoholic artificial flavors in a sugared and spiced glass. I am not making this up*.
*I am really not making this up. Last week when I ordered a pint of beer at one of my formerly favorite bars, the bartender said, “would you like that in a sugared glass?”. “oh no” I replied, “I did not want a margarita, just a beer”. “I know” she said, “the winter ale comes in a sugared glass”. No lie.