For the record, I do rag on SUVs and SUV owners a whole lot in fairer weather, but not even my zealotry motivates the wearing of short sleeves in the blistering cold. Often. Then again, flame-throwing might just compensate for the life threatening heat-exchange such a winter wardrobe would entail.
I will, however, add “Glacier Killer” to my long list of illustrious titles. Allow me to explain a course of events that might lead to such assertion.
First, it snows. Then, it snows some more. Then it melts about half-way into a thick, slushy paste. That freezes creating a bottom sheet of ice about two inches thick. Then it snows again. This snow is douvled over, and then compressed into packing snow by a plough, dense enough to thwart small arms fire at long range. This then melts only a little, and then gets rained on, which subsequently freezes.
All of this transpires two feet behind my car on our driveway. It took me a half an hour with a steel spade to free the automobile from its icy tomb and immediately get it stuck on a curb on the road.
Nevertheless, a sense of accomplishment pervails.
Ja.