Monthly Archives: January 2011

Lucy hates winter.

Small dog, big snow.

Lucy leads crusade to ban winter.


Ban Winter: It’s Unconstitutional!

It’s official—There’s snow on the ground in 49 of the 50 states.

With this bellwether, we can swiftly ban winter.

Wouldn’t it be nice to celebrate Christmas in hot pants and know your mother-in-law wouldn’t be stuck at your house an extra week?  

If we follow our legislators’ lead—find words in the Constitution to support our cause—we can delete December through March for eternity.

This goal in mind, I began scrutinizing the Constitution for the right words, already scripted by the Founding Fathers.

 Eureka! There it was, smack dab, in the Preamble:

            We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

“Welfare” jumped off the page and hit me upside the head.

          Welfare (according to the American Heritage Dictionary): n. 1. health, happiness, or prosperity; well-being.

Only a moron would think that weeks of subfreezing temperatures, blizzards, ice and sleet storms promote health, happiness, prosperity and well-being.

Haven’t we had enough global cooling? 

Constituents in New England, the Mid-Atlantic and Midwest will storm Congress to legislate for a revised calendar sans winter. 

Most of the South will surely follow suit. Crackers are always caught with their overalls down when storms strike.

With a little effort, we can gain support from non-skiing Westerners. 

Granted, we may have trouble appealing to Florida, the lone state without snow. But when was Florida ever part of the U.S.? Everybody knows it’s a suburb of New Jersey.

We can do this! Before the first crocus breaks through the slush, we can build grassroots support that will make the 2008 election look like a day at the beach.

Are you with me?


This is a vacation?

Sunday’s Washington Post devoted too many tape-measured inches to a fitness boot camp vacation. Isn’t that an oxymoron? Imagine spending three precious vacation days at Camp Lejeune. Gee, where do I sign up?

An hour from Tampa you can pay $1,475 recession dollars for 3 days of punishing activities such as a 4-mile beach run before breakfast. If that doesn’t float your avoirdupois, step on a scale at 6am (A splendid way to start the day.) Schlep a 5-gallon water bottle tipping the scales at 45 pounds around a gym. Scuttle crablike across a basketball court. Meet with a nutritionist. Gloriosky!

 Gee, where have I been all my life? 

But wait, for all the self-inflicted corporal punishment there are mealtime rewards: Yogurt and berries! Turkey burgers! Brown rice and broccoli!

 Istanbul is so last year. I want to suffer!

 I don’t know about you, but I favor strolling, climbing museum stairs and bending my elbow (sometimes both) when I leave home. Travel for me is a chance to exercise my eyes and ears and mind. And dining options. I don’t want to compete with—or look like—Isabelle Caro.

 Forget jogging suits, working out in sweaty gyms, watercress and tofu. 

Bring on comfy jeans, walking outdoors, meat and potatoes. And dessert.