There ain’t no snow in the land of the mad

I saw a guy out shoveling off his steps in Lewiston early in the week after the latest nuisance storm dropped a couple inches of blech on us. I was grousing full-time about the weather, myself, but not this dude. He was out there in shorts, a light shirt and from what I could see from the street, either sandals or house slippers. He seemed to be humming contentedly even as heavy, wet snow blew back in his face on an icy wind. I tell you, when it comes to foul weather, it’s hard to beat full-blown denial. In his winter-twisted mind, this guy probably believed he was merely sweeping new-mown grass off the steps at his summer retreat in Los Zapatos. I admire that. In an effort to be more like this delusional fellow, I’m gonna go swing in the backyard hammock for a while wearing only my favorite skort.

But not everybody can pull it off

That state of winter serenity isn’t for everybody, apparently. In the court logs this week are no fewer than two accounts of people charged in assaults that involved snow shovels. Whenever I come across these things, I imagine men in breeches and tricorn hats dueling pirate-style but with snow scrapers instead of swords. It’s great fun. If Disney wants to do something with this idea I’m open to discussion, although I’m still mad at them for reasons that will become clear soon enough.

Incoming wounded

So, streaming services Hulu and Disney+ have gotten married and as part of their nuptial celebrations, both have dropped MASH from their inventory. Can you imagine it? Dropping MASH? A show so enduring, that people who have watched the show two dozen times from start to finish will still go out and get into fistfights over the question of whether Col. Henry Blake was more entertaining than Sherman T. Potter? I’ve seen lifelong friendships burned to ashes in debates over who played better practical jokes: Trapper John or the mustachioed B.J. Hunnicutt. In response to this appalling corporate decision, I’ve dropped Hulu altogether and have turned to sailing the high seas to get my MASH fix. If you get my drift.

Skate away

In the Auburn community forums the other day, a local lady bemoaned the fact that there aren’t many places to ice skate outdoors anymore. I concur. You don’t see pond hockey as much as you did back in the day, either, and that’s just a sad state of affairs. Some of my best memories from youth involve taking hard, frozen pucks straight to the ankle, stick blades to the shins and elbows to the jaw as we battled NHL-style in subzero weather. And then later, when you took your skates off after nine hours on the ice, your toes would explode with magnificent pain as they thawed and that pain would last for an hour or more. Yep, these are my best memories from childhood. I should probably bring all of this up with my therapist.

Mark LaFlamme is an award-winning Sun Journal reporter and columnist. He’s covered the nighttime police beat since 1994, which is just grand because he doesn’t like getting out of bed before noon. He is the author of eight published novels and rides a dual sport motorcycle everywhere he goes. Unless it’s winter, in which case he just sulks a lot.