He don’t know shit about chilly!
I’d been down to the local greasy spoon earlier this week and shot the shit with Big Joe. He’s owns the place and is fry cook, dishwasher and waiter all in one big fat happy package. His hashbrowns and bacon are always crisp, though I’ve gotten some bacon once in a while that tastes a might rancid. I’ll eat it anyway like that – I mean what the fuck it goes down ok and helps unclog the plumbing pretty damn quick. Well crappola folks – when someone else is fixin the meal and entertainin ya besides – it’s sure a damn site better then re-heatin a batch of ludefisk back at the shack.
Big Joe had been a hell of a defenseman in the day. A lotta guys lost there front teeth from his cross checks and wreslin that resulted from their attempts a standin around in the slot. He wasn’t too shifty being so big and all, and never had much of a slap shot. Actually I don’t think he even tried to take a slapshot after he was about sixteen or so. Seems as though one of our coaches really made fun of him for falling down after a shot so he never took one again. But he had this sweeping wrist shot that more times then not floated high and guys would get out the way when they knew he was going to release it. I saw him take one once that just floated right up over the glass. He just was wild that way. Yup but that was back in the day.
Now Big Joe just ladles the grease and chats ya real good. To hang around his place is just a damn good way to spend a morning while you’re waitin for your truck’s engine to warm up. It’s a pretty good place to just get a cup a joe too.
Well like I said I was over ta his place earlier this week and we were not talkin about anything too damn important until he brought up some local gossip. He leans across the counter like he’s got some dangone secret to tell me. He spits a little at me cuz he’s missin his upper two and says “Jasper, that hippy-ass Caliboy, Bobby, ‘sbeen saying that he thinks this is the coldest winter on record.”
Now I’m not sure from the tone of his voice if he’s thinking that this is authorative or what. But I take it as arguin ma-tear-e-l if ya know what I mean.
“Big Joe,” I say, “what the fuck does that damn jack-ass know? You and me, we’ve been livin in the North Woods all our damn lives! He don’t know shit about chilly. Ehh?”
Big Joe pours me some more coffee and says, “Yup. He’s a little soft. He don’t know shit about chilly like you and me do. Right, Jasper?”
I hear some crinkling noise and see that Big Joe is scrounging through the pile of papers over ta the end of the counter. He picks a section up and says “Look this just came earlier,” as he sets it down beside my cup.
It’s a two day old copy of the Star/Tribune (takes a couple of days for things to get to us here in the North Woods) and has a cover story of about 100 inches of snow dumpin up-state
or somethin? What’s the big deal? Some blooie lake effects climatology shit causes that stuff.
“Yeah, so what, ehh? We been colder before this shit. Remember St. Patty’s day in ’67 when the whole fuckin area got snowed in and we were cut off for a week and half. Shit that was a storm and chilly with blizzard conditions for five days straight and no plows or nothin being able to get ta us up here. Ehh? Ya Remember that don’t ya Big Joe?”
“Wheats, I’m telling ya, I just don’t know. I remember that pretty damn well. Yup. That was a storm. I had to crap in a coffee can for a couple a days before I could get the back door open and make a path to the crapper. But I’m wonderin. Remember what ya said earlier about that global warming bullshit and the earth shiftin on its poles? What if we’re going into, ehh, some fuckin ice age or somethin? What if Bobby, ain’t as blooie as we think he is? Maybe you and him is on the same wavelength? Ehh?”
“Oh – Fuck that shit, Big Joe. Ya know the North Woods always gets cold, ehh? I mean, shit, sure we don’t get as cold as
“Wheats, ya get smart on this shit and let me know later, ehh?”
Well we moved on to some other less important talk and my truck finally got warmed up; so I headed on back home and dogged the internet for a bit.
Here’s the scoop. Ya folks out there reading this shit let me know what ya think. Ehh?
Jamie of Duluth says: high of -3 today..whoop whoop...few nights ago was -45 with the wind chill but about -22 normal...eeek!!
Ti the Unperfect from
crisp,cold air like 7 at night 25 during they day- wind chill is 0!
Yeah and I told her: Yah I know how cold that is. Something's crawling up to my throat trying to stay warm and it ain't my hands.
Double-0 of
My response to that shit: Ok - maybe you can describe that with a little less nostalgia and a little more Mainiac humor!
And he rewrote: Well I tell ya what anyhow, it's wicken friggin fridgid up in these goddamm parts, yes sa, god damn ma. Both my knee caps have been a wobblin and crackin off one another like a god damn loose barn board. BEen so cold can't even turn over the friggin skidda, fucken A, Jasper!
Boston Clover of Minneapolis says: its really cold but i went skiing at afton alps today so i think i got frost nip
And I respond to his crappola: Come-on give me something a little crazier. How cold was it????????????? Where'd ya get that frost nip - and don't just say your nose unless it came with a snotsickel.
And Boston Clover responded back: fine its like -17 degrees with wind chill and my cheeks and my nose and no no snotsickle
The strangest little tidbit I picked up though came from a phone call ta one of my business associates in Blackhawk territory. He told me that he had gone outside the other day while it was quite crispy and took one of those deep breaths through the nose that would normally create a tingle in each nostril as your snot froze. Instead he said that his left nostril sucked in and froze shut for about ten seconds. Now ain’t that somethin, ehh?!?!
Well folks, its just Jasper Wheats here, movin on again for bit. Remember: Skate hard, skate often, and continue walking with wood.
No comments:
Post a Comment