It’s A New Year, but I’m Not Quite Done Here

The snow — finally! — falling last night had a gentle quality, in sharp contrast to most of the news we’ve been getting over the past couple of weeks. And today, well, many of us will be staying away from our TVs and radios. While it may seem odd under the circumstances, I’ll just keep to my own lane, hoping to offer you a little something on the lighter side of life.

Slightly Delayed Migration

I know in my before-Christmas post I said I’m planning to move this operation over to Substack. That’s still true — I do, and I will — but for a few reasons I’m lingering here in January. (I also haven’t sent out the New Year’s cards yet, but that’s the norm.) Will you, as the Verizon Customer Service guy my husband and I spoke to on speaker phone yesterday said repeatedly, “bear with me” for a little while?

I must admit that going over to Substack feels somewhat like diving off a cliff into unfamiliar waters: I’m not sure who else is swimming there and it’s easy to be convinced that everyone has become perfectly acclimated to the new environment, sharing exciting ideas with one another as they paddle around.

I need to get my nerve up a little bit.

Winter Whimsy

As many of you recall, I began this blog waaaaay back with a basic premise that side-by-side contrasts can be compelling: one thing stays itself but can also be enhanced by another different, maybe even opposite, element adjacent to it. Sometimes the combination can be true to nature and beautifully real; other times, it’s more like fake news, or in less negative terms, just fanciful — pretend play.

I’ll let you judge which kind the image in this photograph depicts.

Some of my local friends who frequent the YMCA will recognize the scene: these inflatables still sit in the main lobby, holding their s’mores (not microphones) by a campfire. Happily for the staff there, the cheerful snow people didn’t have to be deflated and put away right after Christmas.

During the stretch of really cold days we had earlier in the month (more coming this week), I appreciated the Y tremendously. I’m pretty bold about running outside generally, glad for any kind of sunshine, but that biting wind was too much. So I collected my quarters and dimes (the latter increasingly go into the parking meters unnoticed — poor slim things) and headed downtown to the place where I can always find fulfillment: physical, mental, and even spiritual.

There are plenty of photographs there — like the ones behind the snow people set-up — showing people of different races, genders and ages exercising and having fun doing it, too. This is not at all fake news: this really happens here, and it’s wonderful.

We Like Our Contrasts Very Strong

But, c’mon, If you were a snow person, would you ever in a million years want to sit right next to a campfire? Would the nice glow of the flame compel you to stay, bewitched, even when your limbs started disappearing? I think not.

So much for my rational take on the scene, however. This situation reminds me of when I ask my husband during a show, something like, “We never see those spies/detectives/secret agents ever stop to eat an actual meal!” He gives me a weary look and says, quite rightly, “Polly, it’s TV.” We relax partly by laying down our usual expectations of what should and should not be portrayed as real life. In the case of the jovial air-filled individuals, we indulge our imaginations — letting in the magic of winter — in a way that takes us away from our usual humdrum cares.

Since I’ve been walking through that lobby frequently, though, and the snow people just keep smiling, oblivious to their inevitable fate, I did a little on-line searching and found, not surprisingly, that there are lots of depictions of this kind of scene. Here’s one with everyone standing up, no legs, and a much larger flame too.

Still, you’ll note, the smiles. OK, so this must be a “Live while you can!” illustration, right? Heck, if we were always to worry about what might happen, maybe we’d all just stay, well, perpetually frozen.

Speaking of frozen, I also found that you can listen to a very soothing solo piano version of the hit called, “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” from the Disney film, while you’re looking at, and listening to, a crackling fire. You’ve probably noticed that this kind of backdrop has become popular (sometimes on classroom smart boards), with our screens standing in for real fireplaces or wood stoves, requiring gathering all that kindling and then dealing with the ashes. Nobody’s suggesting that the snowman building will actually happen by the blaze, but it’s the same idea. This version, called “Do You Want to Build A Snowman (By The Fire)” takes us back to Christmas; hope you won’t mind: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FfxTFtyg8w

Let Not Life Be Blaaah, and Get Moving

So this was intended to be one last look at a juxtaposition, a “Wait — how can that be with that?” moment that was directly in my line of travel. Since the inflatable red helicopter with Santa in it (wish I had a photo) is now gone from my neighbor’s roof, there’s no telling how long the snow people will survive in the YMCA lobby.

But one thing’s for sure: I’ll start getting chilly, and probably more scared, if I stand up on that cliff for much longer. Soon and very soon, I’ll be bringing my delight in funny, ridiculous, impossible as well as beautiful, comforting and amazing contrasts over to Substack.

Have any of your own to share right now? I’d love to hear about them.