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Praising winter

You can talk about your springtime in the Rockies, about autumn in New York, or summer in the Vale of Kashmir, but winter is the season for me. Give me winter and plenty of it.

I like the 80 pounds of clothes you have to put on to walk to the post office.
I like being able to wear a woolen scarf and cap to the dinner table without feeling uncouth.
I like the chance to sleep in my overcoat.
I like the friendly sound of the heating-oil truck arriving every few hours to keep the furnace roaring away.

I like walking knee-deep in snow to get to the garden shed where the snow shovel is kept.
I like the way the snow gets down into the shoes during this adventure, and turns to water, and makes your socks soaking wet.
Show me somebody who doesn't like that, and I'll show you somebody who has lost touch with the joys of childhood.
And O, the icy feet! The icy feet! Take them to bed with you and they retain the frost all night long, keeping the sheets chilled from toe to pelvis. I like the icy feet.
I especially like a great ice storm!
I like the way it weighs down power lines until they crackle and snap.
I like the excitement of not knowing whether the power failure will last long enough for every pipe in the house to freeze.
I like wondering: If the pipes unfreeze, will burst seams flood the house and create an exciting new lake in the cellar?
During power outages, I like trying to generate a little heat by making a fire in the fireplace.
Some men lose heart on discovering that since the woodbox is empty, they must make another trip out to the woodpile by the garden shed in knee-deep snow.
Not me. I like the chance it gives me to wax philosophical by saying, "If God had wanted us to be sissies He wouldn't have made winter."
I like the way the law requires you to get out and shovel your sidewalk when the snow is over.
I like the way doctors always broadcast warnings that you could easily die if you shovel snow.
I like the feeling, when shoveling the snow, that it may kill me.
I like the excuse this offers to feel sorry for myself while imagining the funeral elegy: "He died to uphold the law."
I like digging the car out from under tons of snow with the sure knowledge that snowplows will come by before long and bury it under the same tons of snow I have just taken off.
You know what else I like? Driving when the streets are icy and the car starts to skid.
I like knowing that a skidding car should be turned into the direction of the skid, unless it has front-wheel drive, in which case it should be steered in the direction you want it to go.
I like not being quite sure whether I have these rules correct, because when I'm out there on the ice it makes me feel like a John Wayne figure living dangerously.

I have friends who love winter even more than I do, and they make me feel inferior about my own passion for the season.

They boast of their love for skiing down great mountains even though it may break their bones.
They taunt me with cries of, "What? You are afraid of a few shattered bones?"

No, not afraid. I like a chance to shatter my bones as much as the next man.

What I like about winter, though, is that bone-shattering can be done without incurring the high costs of skiing. (The only costlier sport is polo.)

One has only to step out of the house and walk to the post office to mail a letter, thus inviting a fall on a nice icy patch that may shatter such vital bones as the pelvis, the spine and the skull, all for the price of a 32-cent stamp.

I like winter's indifference to the rich and famous. Sure, you can spend a fortune and ski the Alps, Himalayas, Rockies and Appalachians in the quest for orthopedic trauma, but winter also offers equal opportunity to the common man with nothing but a pair of porch steps to fall from.

Enough praise. The heating-oil truck is here again, and I feel the flu coming on.

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These all are jokes that we've had the good fortune of having other people email to us or we've retrieved off the Internet. Over time, we've sent them on to the subscribers of our various jokes lists. Since we're talking some ten years of managing these emails lists, we've built up a pretty sizeable (and FUNNY) collection of jokes. They cover pretty much any category and topic that you can imagine; from clean jokes to dirty jokes and most everything in between, including the much loved lawyer jokes and the blonde jokes and the yo mama jokes as well as those redneck jokes. Remember, we did NOT author them, but we did take the time to convert the text files to html.

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