“Among famous traitors of history one might mention the weather.”
By Ria Roberts
Chicagoans always refer to their native weather in binary. That is to say, we host an oppressive summer and a barbarous winter, with no room for the gentle nuances of transitional seasons. This winter, however, has been a bit anomalous. Us Heroes have faced none of the usual extremes– barely a negative temperature to speak of, no debilitating blizzards, not a single case of frostbite during our morning rides. While this mildness may sound like something to be grateful for, the lack of meteorological punctuation has in fact caused the season to drag on more tediously than usual. Talking to an annoying person at a party is more entertaining that talking to a boring one.Thus, we find ourselves at the end of February taking all possible measures to subvert seasonal malaise.
Our Monday morning work session has been moved from our usual cafe to one of equal caliber nine blocks east. We might go to the same lunch place as always, but Luke Hero is going to order the Monte Christo instead of the reuben. Most important to the preservation of our psyches is a method of climatic escapism. We have been consistently checking– in addition to Chicago’s constant forecast of 37°F– the weather elsewhere, how it feels in Tunis, Cannes, Mumbai. Right now it is 63°F in Mexico City but will reach 79°F. Were we headquartered there, we would wear short sleeves, take a walk through the Zócalo and go to Pujol for dinner. The warmth in the air would make us enjoy each other’s company even more so than usual, have a particularly impressive knowledge of current events, and tell noticeably funnier jokes.
So, dear readers, we encourage you to take part in our gleeful delusion. Perhaps you are in Brazil or Brussels. Take a moment to look up the weather somewhere foreign and adjust your mood for the day as though it were so.