Just say no: A rant on weather and drugs

I have already complained about the weather enough but humor me as I do so for a little bit longer.

Like most people who live in the South, by accident of birth or purposeful decision, I don’t like snow. Yet I have been plagued by white powder this year, and not the white powder glorified by music and film. Speaking of illicit drugs, I was under the impression that as an adult I would be under constant strain to partake in narcotics.

You see, when I was a child, the local elementary school prescribed to the Drug Abuse Resistance Education, or D.A.R.E, program. Periodically, a sheriff’s deputy would stop by to warn the students about the dangers of drug abuse. There were videos and special presentations instructing us impressionable kiddos to be on the lookout for suspicious characters, who most certainly were always strung out, who would provide a sundry option of uppers, downers, screamers and laughers and anything else to numb the brain and hide from the problems of the real world.

After nearly 41 years of life on this big blue marble, I have only used my D.A.R.E training one time. Yes, only once has another human being offered me drugs, and when I turned it down, they were very polite about it. On the other hand, my friends are quite selfish, because I know some of them are holding. Why don’t they want to share?

Back to the weather. I’ve seen snow more this year than I ever have, certainly more times that I have been offered narcotics. Even while traveling I have not been able to escape winter weather. With the dead of winter comes dance competition season, and so far blizzards and ice storms have coincided with every event I have attended. It’s like the universe is telling me dance is not the sport for my family. My pocketbook would welcome the notion, my daughter, not so much.

Our most recent dance-related trip was to our Nation’s Capital, or close there about. The weather was quite miserable. A chilly rain transformed into a massive front that dropped inches of snow from Virginia to New England. Traveling through that deluge of snow and sometimes near-whiteout conditions was a car holding my family. Thankfully my father was driving. No matter how old you get and no matter your life circumstances, there is no problem your dad can’t handle. After getting us out of the snow, he turned the wheel over to me.

Twelve hours in a cramped automobile will make you second guess every decision you have ever made, but we made it.

Safe back at home and with a forecast calling for spring-like weather, I couldn’t be happier. I don’t mean to wish my life away, but a sweltering summer doesn’t sound too bad after a long, cold winter.

Attitudes and opinions can change just as quickly as the weather. After I’ve cut grass for a few weeks, I’m sure we’ll pick this topic up again.