You think this is cold, you little wimp? I’ll tell you about cold. Take a seat by me here.

I remember the Blizzard of ‘37, it was the worst snow we had seen since the South lost the war for states’ rights.

The snow was so high that we couldn’t even walk anywhere. We had to sit on sleds and push ourselves around town with boat oars whenever we wanted to go into town for the entire month of January.

You say that was just one year? Well let me tell you, it was cold every year.

39, 41, hell, my brother Dave froze completely solid waiting for the school bus in 42. It took Ma three days to thaw him out by the fire, but he was perfectly fine after that.

What’s that? What did we do when it was so cold outside?

We didn’t have these Newtendy Gamestations like you have today, we made our own fun when we were stuck in the house. When we played games we didn’t play this electronic computer game Super Smash Brothers that you do, we played Super Smash Brothers for real. That’s right, we didn’t sit on the couch and press buttons on the controller. We had bare-knuckle fistfights like boys should, where the winner was whoever still had the most teeth by the end. My brother and I knew that you get cold just sitting there, what really warms you up is some good old-fashioned fisticuffs.

Of course, you wouldn’t know much about roughhousing because the liberal wimps running the schools don’t let the kids fight anymore, let alone engage in large scale, close-quarters combat with fifteen to twenty-five kids like we did back in the old days. Used to be we had to venture out into the cold if we wanted to track down a classmate to make fun of him and beat him up for lookin’ different, now you lazy scabs can sit on your damn e-Phones and call the kid whatever the hell you want to where everyone can see.

Oh, you’re getting up? While you’re up, could you bring me back a sweater? There’s a bit of a draft in the room.