Spanish boots of spanish leather.

Spring in Michigan is decidedly pointless. While it does warm up from the frigid winter temperature it is still not warm enough to shed winter wear. The Sun is covered constantly by a cloud cover and there is always the threat of lingering snow showers or even worse, freezing rain. The occasional chirping of the returning birds offers some relief. I have been in Michigan for over six years now and I have yet to have decent month of March. Of all the four seasons that the mid-west has to offer, spring is only inches of snow away from being dead last as the winter. Even if fall is a very short season, it remains the best time to ever be in Michigan.

Strangely, I shall be escaping most of spring by chasing a winter above the Arctic Circle instead. As I packed my bag hurriedly for a trip to Sweden, I paused to consider how exciting travel is regardless of the duration of the trip or the destination for that matter. As you assemble the toiletries, you start pining for the new sounds and sights you are about to see. The new roads that your rental car will travel on; the magical feeling of being slightly out of your comfort zone, punctuated by a somewhat iffy sleep in an excessively sanitized hotel room! This time, I look forward biting into reindeer meat, witnessing massive frozen lakes surrounded by pine trees and perhaps, of time permits, attempting to cross country ski upright.

Lately, I have been craving horsepower. Both my babies rely on high strung small engines to generate power. Now, I seem to be drawn into rude, un-refined, poor handling American Muscle cars that just have oodles of low end grunt. I find myself turning my head following the thumping roar of a brutal V8 engine. Sure the Germans and the Japanese are able to extract more power from the same sized block, but they seem to be missing the point. The cheaper price point of an American Muscle car makes it a dream able dream. Those are dangerous dreams to have with a flaky financial condition so I had better just rent one to get it out of my system.

I haven’t written a random post since a long time and it feels good to ignore the structure. No definite beginning, no punch-line at the end and certainly no connection between the paragraphs. Fitting the weather, I suppose.

Also, I know a Dave Munsky.