Thursday, January 7, 2010

Oh, Good Blog-fellows.

I really don't belong here. I just can't stand it.

I'm not talking about New York City specifically, more the North East in general. And I mean Northeast in broad terms. I don't want to live anywhere north of Atlanta and west of Illinois. Disqualify the Midwest as well. The Wild West? Maybe South Texas. No way, no how the following: Texas north of San Antonio, Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana,Utah, North and South Dakota, Minnesota (holy shit, especially Minnesota) and Wisconsin. The Pacific Northwest? Never been there, but I'm going to be cautionary here and cross it off. How about the South, you ask? Deep South I'll consider. I'm talkin' real deep, though. Arkansas and Kentucky, forget about it. Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana? Sometimes, although I'm only goin' as far north as Jackson, and I would need a big-ass coat to consider that. So what do we have left? By my estimation, this leaves the Southwest and Florida as the only hospitable areas in the lower 48.

I really, really hate the cold. Now is not a good time in the U.S. for me and my brethren. Take a look at the national map on Weather.com. Winter is marching inexorably south. Nipples are hardening all over Dixie. Today, Birmingham, Alabama was colder then Boston, Ma. Get your aerosol cans out; global warming is taking forever.

New York, for its part, has been glacial. The wind howls through the skyscrapers in Midtown, Manhattan. Luck would have it that I started my first real New York City job this week, an employment that requires me to walk to the subway at 7am. At this time, the cold is downright insufferable; the jarring, needling air pierces through my pitiful mittens and useless toboggan. Areas of my body that I had no idea could feel cold are freezing. I actually thought to myself that I really should invent knee warmers. I’m considering wearing a retainer to keep my teeth warm.

My new job is not without its perks. Besides the obvious financial compensation (and I am being handsomely compensated, toodle ooh) I get to work inside, where it is gloriously heated. Not all people have the same luxury at work and for this I am grateful

One man for whom work brings no relief from the cold is a dude who works on the corner of Varick and Canal. He is the AM New York Newspaper distributor and we have become regular acquaintances. Absolutely no one wants this tabloid. It’s free, but the pedestrians avoid him like the guy outside baseball stadiums handing out bibles. But yours truly has always been something of a philanthropist, so I gladly take my free copy of the rag. And the hander-outer - as they prefer to be called - has noticed this, and has started to give me 4 or 5 extra copies of this paper, on the house. I take them, we exchange pleasantries, and then I walk around the block and discard all of them in the garbage. And every day it goes like this. He gets rid of his papers, and I feel good about myself for doing a good deed. It’s a win-win.

Sometimes, however, the AM New York is quite good. Today’s headline was about California Chihuahua refugees, fleeing to New York to escape a "death sentence." Apparently, they are executing Chihuahuas left and right in California. The picture on the front was the Taco Bell Chihuahua wearing an “I ‘heart’ New York” t-shirt and in boldface next to him, the phrase, “Yo Quiero New York.” Now even with my minimal grasp of the Spanish language, I can tell that foul play is amiss. His shirt is proclaiming he loves New York, but the boldface maintains he only likes it. So either the Chihuahua has a commitment problem or he is being misquoted. (Damn Liberal Media!) Always something to discuss in AM New York.

The other day, I made the terminal mistake of walking to an open mic after work. Despite my detestation for the cold, I hate spending 2.25 for a subway ride more. Of course, because I’m an idiot and lack the ability to count upward, I got myself hopelessly lost. By the time I got to club, I had left frozen body parts scattered all over the East Village. I thought I might not be able to go on stage considering I had discharged with my tongue and burned my hair for warmth. But I persevered and went on. We comedians are a strong bunch.

Well, good blog-fellows, it is time for bed. But I only hope I can sleep, for the radiator, over which I have no control, is working at full steam and my room is unpleasantly hot. My how I hate the heat. It’s so hot that…

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