Snow death techno parade

If Dr. Zhivago had written a blog, he would have looked out from his man cave window over the same scene I see today, shades of snotty jawas pulling sleds of roadkill past snow sogged hedges. And he would have listened to an Adagio on his iLuv, too. I have not written to you, my public beloved of me, for too long, because, as I tell my parents, “I’ve been real busy, so…”
I jogged in the beginning of winter yesterday morning. When I had laced my shoes, it had been bitter autumn. When I finished my run, the walks were already thickly dusted and the snow was an impediment. We stayed inside all day, except when my wife sent me to the supermarket to buy an onion so she could make a Thanksgiving meal, and then just before the meal, when we drank warm Glogg outside our kitchen patio door. The snow erased six arduous months of sunshine and beaches, and I was happy again. I whispered to Serena, “Do you hear that?” She listened and said, “No.” I said, “Exactly. Thank God.”
But you can hear the cold season on all forms of public transportation. My tram to work sounds like a hospital ward. Coughing. Noses slathering rags. And the person I sit next to is always the sickest. I have come to believe that I am the Angel of Death. No matter where I sit, the person next to me immediately begins sneezing. So now I sit down in the first seat I see, infect the person next to me with the plague, and then get up and sit somewhere else since my black magic has been expended. It is only fair. Europe made techno, and techno is Europe’s equivalent of the Iraq War.

I am 37 years old, and right on schedule, I am having a mid-life crisis. I cannot afford a Porsche, and they don’t fit infant car seats - and my wife is still relatively hot- so I have decided to change careers. No more worrying about little kids with flies on their lips – I will speak for the trees. I am taking an online graduate certificate course in sustainable resources management from Oregon State University. My first semester of downloading readings to read at lunch will end next week. I have to write a paper today, Economic arguments and social determinants contributing to the success of decisions to adopt Reduced Impact Logging techniques in low- to transitional-income countries. Ten pages, no problem. Serena says that if I put the title as a header on each page that should eat up about half of the page requirements.
…and they whipped and mocked him. Then they got tired, what with all the work, so they five. One asked him, “So what are you doing tomorrow? A parade? Hey, cheer up, that sounds like fun!”