The Outsider: A sud too soon
|By Will Jones - The Outsider | March 14, 2019|
It’s nine o’clock on Sunday morning as I sit at my desk wondering what to write about for this week’s Outsider column. The weather is atrocious. Howling wind, sideways rain, freezing rain, sleet and snow, depending on when I look out of the window and how long my gaze lingers. Grim. Not a day to be outside, I’m sure. But the weather makes me smile; I’m pleased with the gale force deluge for one simple reason. It means that I don’t have to wash the car.
I should explain. Yesterday, Saturday – think back to the weekend – was glorious. The temperature edged up to the positive side of zero, the sun shone and for all the world it felt like spring was on the way. My lovely wife, Little Z and I were in Peterborough and as we cruised down Landsdowne every gas station we passed was crowded with lines of cars waiting to go through the car wash. It was as if some springtime-clocks-moving-forward-gottaget-the-car-washed switch had been flicked in the collective brain of every driver in the neighbourhood.
“Look, there must be 20 in that line-up,” squawked Little Z, pointing at another gas station. I looked but didn’t respond, other than to grimace because I could almost hear the words forming in my lovely wife’s brain.
Three, two, one ... “We should wash our car when we get home,” she chirped, with a smile.
I looked at the time and wondered how I could delay our return from the city until it was dark.
It’s not that I don’t like a nice clean car; it’s more that I hate wasting my time. As I get older I value my time, especially my free time more and more, and as such, cleaning the car is not something that I feel constitutes good use of precious minutes: not when I could be partaking in culturally enriching activities such as tasting Ontario craft beers, peering down an ice-rimmed hole into a lake, or sleeping.
To clean the car, especially now with the dirty end of winter well and truly upon us, is to embark upon a futile and thankless task that I really do not enjoy, only to have all my hard work undone within minutes as my lovely wife drives off down our potholed, salt encrusted, dirt road and onto the wet, filthy highway.
Sure, the car looks pretty when it’s clean but if driven anywhere it stays clean about as long as a two-year-old child that’s been handed a bucket of spaghetti in tomato sauce; as long as a white dog when it spies a muddy puddle; as long as Little Z’s room when his mates come for a visit.
And so back to the weather; the rain, snow, sleet mix that is coming in diagonal waves across my backyard at the moment. I’m grateful for it because it postpones my having to waste a small chunk of my life scraping dirt off of the large inanimate object that is parked in my driveway. In fact, the weather is so bad that I may have to stay indoors all day and practise two of my favourite culturally enriching activities, both of which are not ice fishing.
Wake me up, hand me the sponge, when spring really gets here.
WILL JONES - is The Outsider