For me it’s just not Christmas, at least in my mind…and that’s all that matters most days, if there’s not a nice blanket of snow on the ground, a few icicles hanging around and I can see my breath in the air. My fondest childhood memories involve tramping around our farm fields (with my trusty sidekick Barney-the beagle-in tow) trudging through snowdrifts, scaring up rabbits, conquering mountainous snowdrifts and returning to the warmth of our home as a four-foot tall, frozen to the core, chapped and wet, happy as a clam…snowkid.
So with that in mind (and Christmas is next week for Heaven’s sakes) I purposely pulled out all of the stops and did (drumroll please) Thee Old Ripley Snowdance. I’m sick and tired of the “weatherman” and all of his “high-tech” doppler radar and crap taking the fun out of winter weather. I mean seriously…is it a snow storm or a freakin’ “weather event’? I’m takin’ a stand and puttin’ my foot down dammit! So anyway…I really outdid myself this past weekend. I got into my loincloth, slipped into my Redwing work boots and really put my heart into that ceremony (I had to limber up some…those pelvic thrusts don’t grow on trees ya know). My eighty year old neighbor, Ed, came out of his house to give me the “stink eye”, so I’m pretty sure that he (as well as the gathering crowd on my street) didn’t appreciate the whole “that damn fool Ripley is wearing nothing but a loincloth and work boots” but let me tell you what…I’ve lost some weight so there wasn’t as much jiggling as you’d think for a guy my age, just a liberal amount of gyrations, a sprinkling of jazz hands and some of the most audacious leg kicks that you’ve ever seen west of the Mississippi (dead serious…I pulled a hammie again).
Long story short (as if you didn’t know where this was headed) the local forecast is for four to eight inches of snow starting tomorrow night (I must be losing my touch…I could have sworn I did ten pelvic thrusts to the left for a total of ten to twelve inches…but I was getting kinda of tired). So YOU’RE WELCOME EASTERN IOWA…WE’LL HAVE A WHITE CHRISTMAS AFTERALL. (After all…Santa needs a decent blanket of snow to land his sleigh….am I right?)