Deep-Freeze

For those who know me, also know that I have a "thin layer of insulation" about me. I am always cold; I am not fit for this temperate climate that I was born and raised. In Summer, I sneer at those jerks that have sweat rings around their shirts, breathing heavy, with sweat running into their eyes and asking everybody: "Hot enough for ya?" I'm in jeans and cool as a cucumber.

When it gets as cold as it has been the last few weeks, I go out of my way to stay indoors. I abstain from any extra activities that would mean going outside -- even to my car. I suppose that keeps me from shopping, but I still have to venture out in the cold to drive to work every day.

Speaking of work, you wouldn't believe how cold my office is. The building is quite old, and the windows are only one pane thick, so the heat doesn't stay in the building very long. A few years ago, my boss brought in a little space heater in order to keep my temperature above absolute zero. I ended up placing the heater about 30 centimeters away from me on the floor, which managed to keep my workspace tolerable. I still wore my winter coat at the office all day.

Last week, when the temperature dropped to minus thirty, my boss was kind enough to bring in a large electrical space heater. This thing puts out a lot of heat, and I would consider it a fire hazard. This heater is so hot that it would be comparable to standing directly in front of a well-stoked fire. Guess what -- it wasn't warm enough for me. I had both space-heaters going in the office, and only then was I comfortable.

I have often been so cold that I would have loved to douse myself in "Boy Scout Juice" and light myself on fire, as it would be the only method I could think that would warm me up. If you think that idea is ridiculous, you should check out Jimmy The Human Bomb. This guy is a daredevil who ignites himself on fire at functions such as tractor pulls, football games etc. He is doused in some form of flammable liquid, and then is placed in an enclosure like an outhouse. I believe the small wooden building is pumped full of some combustible gas, and then it is ignited. The building explodes, and out of the wreckage comes Jimmy the Bomb, stumbling like a zombie with his arms outstretched. After some thirty seconds of being aflame, his crew arrives to douse him with fire extinguishers. Apparently, he's a big hit in the southern States. Truth is stranger than fiction.

Contrary to popular belief, it is cold in Hell. Very, very cold.

There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold,
The Arctic trails have their secret tales that would make your blood run cold,
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, but the queerest they ever did see,
Was that night on the marge of Lake LeBarge, I cremated Sam McGee.
- Robert W. Service, "The Cremation of Sam McGee"