Nothing Cold Can Stay

It’s too cold, and it’s not fun anymore.

Cold was fun when I got to make homemade soups, and peruse Brooklyn Flea with a $4 coffee in hand, and play in the snow (I never played in any snow). But now I’m tired of eating soup, I would rather die than go to Brooklyn Flea, and I can’t even play in the snow! All I want to do is sit at home and watch Hulu. But I watched all the Hulu. I’m listening to The Moth Radio Hour these days. I’ve resorted to the oral tradition. Seriously. Like it’s olden times.

I can’t even snack decently. It’s become gratuitous, just pounding my face with chocolate chips and potatoes of all varieties. It’s not enjoyable. But I’m too lazy to go outside and explore better foods. So I just crunch and crunch until I fall asleep to some Hulu Original, because that’s what it has come to.

Doing things is out of the question. Just writing this blog post (one of my laziest, I must admit) has taken a lot out of me. I’m going to have to watch three episodes of Girls afterwards, just to make up for it.

Maybe winter has gone on too long? I think someone needs to check when this thing normally ends. Today weather.com said that winter keeps going for a while like this, just cold and rain, cold and rain, chance of snow showers, cold. At least for the next 10 days. That seems excessive. The groundhog said spring was a’comin’. You’re not a liar, are you groundhog? 

When it’s not winter anymore, I won’t have to wear my fuzzy-on-the-inside hat that makes me turn from left to right every few seconds, because it always feels like someone is creeping up on me. It just your hat, Lauren. It’s just your hat. 

When it’s not winter anymore, I will eat a veggie wrap for lunch, and drink iced coffee for a pick-me-up. People will invite me to do things, and I might want to do them.

When it’s not winter anymore, I will go out without a coat, and hat, and scarf, and mittens, and sack of miscellaneous weather-proof items, and I won’t lose any of these things, because I will be wearing a romper. It’s all one piece.

And I know with all my heart, that one day it won’t be winter. Because nothing cold can stay. (If I wasn’t so lazy-bones, I’d do a full eight-line play on Robert Frost’s “Nothing Cold Can Stay,” but we’re all lucky I was even able to stay awake long enough to write this, and half of you don’t even know what I’m talking about, so…)

 

Sentimental: The Power of Kenny G

Photo courtesy of themanesqueeze.com, not to be confused with themansqueeze.com, which I don't know if it's a thing, but I hope it's not a thing.

Photo courtesy of themanesqueeze.com, not to be confused with themansqueeze.com, which I don’t know if it’s a thing, but I hope it’s not a thing.

Last week, I paid my new dentist–Dr. Terry–a little visit. Turns out, I brush my teeth to hard, which sounds like the best thing, but it’s a bad thing. My hardcore brushing had weathered one of my chompers (I don’t know the names of teeth, but chompers seems right), and my root became exposed. Dr. Terry had to bond it. The visit was quick and painless, but there was one strange thing. This and the last time I’d visited (for the cleaning and exam that had led to this visit) Dr. Terry had his YouTube set to the Kenny G station. I had noticed it the first time, but didn’t think much of it. He likes smooth jazz. Big deal! But twice in a row? Kinda weird. I like Kenny G as much as the next guy, which is not at all, so I was a bit confused as to why he was my dentist’s preferred work music.

I’m sure there is some sort of psychology behind playing smooth jazz in a dentist’s office. The sound of death drills and metal stabbers can be unsettling. A little soft rock or easy listening might mask awful these sounds, which bring to mind the pain and bleeding to come. But variety is the spice of life. Throw in a little Norah Jones, maybe some Michael Bolton, or Luther Vandross. All Kenny all the time is bit much.

But I must say, I was mesmerized by what played before me during my bonding visit (Dr. Terry actually said, “We’re going to do some bonding today,” which made me laugh a little, but my mouth was open with a metal stick in it…and he hadn’t meant it as a joke). I couldn’t pull my eyes from the screen as the video for his 1997 hit “Sentimental” played.

The first thing that struck me was Kenny’s instrument: the clarinet. I’d thought he was strictly a sax man, but it seems Kenny is a master of all things woodwind. A true artiste. I couldn’t totally follow the story line, as Terry kept saying things like “does this hurt?” and “rinse,” but there were some key elements that stood out. First of all, it’s all in black and white, so you know Kenny’s being for real. Secondly, there are lots of pretty ladies and diverse children. Nice one, G! And of course, he is rocking out on the clarinet in the middle of a field of daisies wearing tiny sunglasses. Like a boss. One of the more disturbing images for me, though, came at the end of the video when Kenny played his clarinet against a pregnant woman’s stomach. Pregnancy rule #1: Don’t let Kenny G play his clarinet on your belly. It can cause irreversible side effects.

I don’t recall all of the other songs that played during my visit. It was all a boring blur of jazz and curls. But I do know that I haven’t stopped thinking about Kenny G since, and that is his power. Something about the way he smiled out at me whilst playing the clarinet in that nature field really reeled me in.

So while I wish I’d gotten a little Fleetwood Mac or Anita Baker in addition to the G, I understand where Dr. Terry was coming from. He was obviously under Kenny G’s spell, just like we all have been, at one point or another.