50 Ways to Beat the Cold
Here, presented as an annual public service, are 50 ways to stay warm during these wintry days – and nights:
1. Longjohns.
2. Popcorn. Or parched peanuts. Pretend you’re at a ballgame on a sultry summer night in the spring, under the lights, complete with hot dogs. The home team is behind 3 to 2 in the bottom of the ninth, two out and two men on.
3. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
4. Fireplaces in general. (Get that back log just right.) Enjoy the inevitable, heated argument over how to arrange the logs, kindling, and accouterments. My late mother-in-law once told me that there are three things every man believes he can do better than any other man; the other two are how to drive and how to build a fire.
5. Bathroom gas heaters. Never take them out when you remodel, no matter how unfashionable they’ve become.
6. Warm thoughts of those you love.
7. Enjoy the snow. Build a snowman. Maybe a whole snow family.
8. Pillow fights. Recommended for all ages. Relieves aggression.
9. A mother’s hug. (Good in any season.)
10. Feed a cold, starve a fever.
11. Eggnog.
12. Soup. Piping hot. Chicken soup with rice, or maybe vegetable-with-beef. The thicker the better. Also recommended: lentil, tomato basil, and tortilla.
13. A game of checkers. Chess only when played with a time limit; slow moves freeze the joints.
14. A no-holds-barred, fines-go-to-those-who-land-on-No-Parking, double-rent-on-Boardwalk-and-Park-Place, house-moving, property-stealing, joint-monopolies-allowed, lots-of-shouting-and-muttering, loans-from-the-bank-and-other-players-encouraged, some-small-thefts-permitted and general-skulduggery-encouraged, rent-dodging, all-around cut-throat game of Monopoly. All weapons checked at the door.
15. Old movies set in tropical climes, in which the men wear pith helmets and the women sarongs, with Bette Davis and George Brent always mopping their brows. Start with “The Letter.” Avoid “Dr. Zhivago” and “Nanook of the North.”
16. Novels that cover three or four generations. Or try Douglas Southall Freeman’s unabridged, four-volume biography of Robert E. Lee. Or Walker Percy’s essays, collected some time ago in “Sign Posts in a Strange Land.” I’m finally getting around to a collection of his essays about language, “The Message in the Bottle.” (Larry McMurtry loved it.) Gibbon’s “Decline and Fall” may be the best cold-weather read of all time. Wrap up and nod off sometime during the description of the customs and mores of the Germanic tribes on the Roman Empire’s ever-shrinking borders. If his opinionated history tends to run on, his English is a joy.
17. Write a hot letter to the editor.
18. Save a winter weather report to read in August. It’ll sound delightful.
19. Chop wood. (Particularly good for working out emotional problems, and much cheaper than psychoanalysis.) Second choice: a punching bag.
20. Hot lemonade.
21. Exercise – indoors.
22. Chinese food, Szechuan variety. Go for the red stars on the menu.
23. Five-alarm chili. Easy on the Fritos, lettuce, and cheese; heavy on the meat, sauce and chili peppers. There are those who put the Fritos on top and those who, inexplicably, put ‘em on the bottom. These two types invariably marry one another.
24. For goodness sake, don’t drive when it’s icy. We’d like you to still be with us next winter.
25. An electric blanket.
26. Nightcaps. Both varieties.
27. Try the sauna.
28. Rock 'n’ roll.
29. Square dancing.
30. Ravel’s “Bolero.” It may not be music, as someone once said, but it’s magnificent.
31. Some foot stompin’, kneeslappin’ country fiddlin’.
32. See “South Pacific.” Or check out Elizabeth Taylor in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.” Or maybe Kathleen Turner and William Hurt in “Body Heat.” Or any movie set in New Orleans.
33. A goose down comforter.
34. Dixieland jazz, not the cool kind.
35. Exercise the mind; turn off the teevee. (Which is a good idea for any time of the year.)
36. Think of the Internal Revenue Service. If that doesn’t get your ire up, nothing will.
37. See if you can still do 100 push-ups. Breaks for hot tea and general resuscitation allowed.
38. Sweaters. Galoshes. Gloves. Parkas. Layers in general. Everything your mother told you to wear and then some.
39. Hot chocolate. Double the usual number of marshmallows.
40. Also, toasted marshmallows.
41. Piping hot oatmeal.
42. Grits.
43. Cuddle.
44. Hot cider.
45. Tea. Or black coffee with a soupcon of bourbon. Irish coffee, but for goodness’ sake forget the whipped cream. It gets in the way of the whiskey.
46. Scarves. Woolen ones with a fringe.
47. Balaclavas, not to be confused with baklavah – which wouldn’t hurt, either.
48. Footsie pajamas.
49. Bring the pets indoors. Make it a three-dog night.
50. Watch “Animal Crackers.” It may not make you any warmer, but the Marx Brothers will make you feel better.
© 2008 TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.
