by T-Bone
My grass is lush green. Trees and flowers are blooming. I moved my swimsuit back to the top of the drawer. Lost my coat. Ditched the snow shovel. Is the pool open? Let's go water skiing. My dog has shed his winter coat and thinks we've moved to South America. What the heck is going on?
It's January. I don't need Al Gore's PowerPoint presentation to tell me something has gone haywire with the weather. Is Mother Nature having a midlife crisis, hot flashes? What's the story here? I am wearing shorts and a T-shirt when I should be bundled up and freezing.
I don't know what the weather is like where you are right now but it's 82º in January here in Richmond, Virginia. That's messed up.
I know it's warm in the South, but even Alabama has a winter. I was down there last week. Nearly hit 90º.
We're breaking records by 15 degrees every day here on the East Coast. It's all people talk about. I called Pat Robertson to ask if the Good Lord had talked to him about this situation, but he was busy bench pressing 2,000 pounds and said he'd have to call me back. Jerry Falwell blamed it on the liberals. Ted Kennedy blamed it on George Bush.
Jim Cantore (he of Weather Channel high-windedness) loves this kind of freaky meteoro-illogical conflagration. He is standing on a beach somewhere, chin pointed to the heat, like Robert Duvall in Apocolypse Now.
Some scientists say, "Oh this is just a phase."
Yeah, like the Ice Age. I bet it's colder in Maui right now.
I am no weatherman, but I can stand outside and sweat like a Ph.D. Come July, if it's 29º, we got us a serious problem. Greenland will be hanging out in North Carolina if this continues. Glaciers? We don't need no stinking glaciers. Snow resorts? Grab your golf clubs.
In the South, we are used to strange weather, to be sure. But this is like Uncle Hank showing up nekkid to the First Baptist revival.
It just ain't right. Not right at all.
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