When the pond near my house has a thin layer of ice on it, I know it’s been cold for a few days.
What a cold last couple of days it has been here in Greensboro.
Still, it’s been a very mellow winter by comparison. Last year, when we brought Ivy home from the hospital, there was a half-foot of snow on the ground.
I usually listen to Cinderella’s Long Cold Winter during January and February. This, year, it hasn’t been a long cold winter. No Cinderella lately.
I’m fairly good at driving on snow. Ice is a different story. Black ice is the worst. Black ice really isn’t “black,” per se. It’s transparent. The asphalt that peeks through is the darkening agent. Ice is dangerous to drive on.
It must be frustrating for my dog, Smitty, when it gets cold out. He’s a Labrador Retriever. His ancestry traces back to Newfoundland, where it’s very cold. I imagine, when it’s cold and icy out, that he feels like we feel on a late spring afternoon when the temperature is just right. For us mortals, 24 degrees is a bit brisk for a walk.
I’ve never played an outdoor gig in the snow. I’ve played some outdoor festivals where the temperature was in the 30’s, though. The heat lamps wreak havoc on guitar tuning. The strings expand under the lamps and then contract in the cold when you’re downstage.
One time at an outdoor gig in the mountains, my hands were so cold that I dipped them in a large styrofoam cup of hot tea during a rhythm section breakdown. When I came back for my solo, my hands were mildly scalded and then began to freeze in the windchill.
Stay warm.
