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IMPRESSIONS by Johnny Teglas

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Signs of hope beat back winter blues

We find our fun where we can here at the newspaper.
Otherwise, we’d all just go bonkers.
When I read editor Terri Likens’ column last Friday, I had to chuckle at her pirate-speak.
Reading further it dawned on me she and I were on the same wavelength.
Our brief chat after deadline confirmed my suspicion
We are both “over it.”
Our short exchange reminded me of a film from way back in the day.
Anyone remember “Network”?
It won four Academy Awards.
While I was a high school senior in 1976 and more interested in female high school seniors (female sophomores and juniors to boot) than I was in journalism, “Network” grabbed my attention.
“Wow!” I remember when veteran actor Peter Finch declared to God, everyone … and the folks he worked for: “I’m mad as he--, and I’m not going to take this anymore!”
Of course, Howard Beale (Finch’s character) was complex, often teetering on the brink between brilliance and madness.
I don’t know much about the brilliance … since I could never be accused of that … but his emphatic dialogue certainly impressed me about the level of his madness.
No offense to anyone, but I’m mad as he--, and I’m not going to take this anymore, either!
Following my daddy’s advice, I have decided to take up arms.
My weapon is a little television remote control.
Daddy calls it a “zapper.”
ZAP! Take that!
I can’t tell you how pleasing that simple act was Sunday afternoon.
After checking on folks at the office, I returned to the house to begin my work week in earnest.
Within minutes of sitting down in front of my computer, I trolled the local television channels and then the cable networks.
Let’s just say the more I watched the madder I got.
Dang it! Every weather forecaster I looked at told pretty much the same story.
ZAP!
At least I didn’t have to listen to it.
Prompted by their sad tales, I visited the National Weather Service’s website.
Egads! More of the same.
Boo, hiss!
Starting Sunday evening and stretching into Thursday night, even our meteorological friends up at the Morristown office are singing the same tune.
More snow.
Did I say “Boo, hiss?”
As mad as I’d like to get, I had to stop and think.
Will it make any difference?
Nope.
Good old Mother Nature is going to have her fun with us this week, and for another month or so.
Methicks it would be wise on our part to make a milk-and-bread run to our favorite grocer, put on a pot of stew (my favorite comfort food) and relax as best we can.
Mad, yes.
Depressed over it, no.
You see, I am claiming something I witnessed Saturday afternoon will help me make it to March.
Four youngsters, bundled up against the blustery wind that was a precursor to the latest Arctic blast, trundled through the neighborhood on their bicycles.
Ahh … there is hope after all. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Stay warm.
And be safe, my friends!