A question for Margaret Wente …

Most of you won’t know who Margaret Wente is (because you live all over the world), so I’ll tell you.  She’s an OpEd columnist for the Toronto Globe and Mail.  There was a time I really enjoyed her work; and actually looked forward to reading each and every one of her columns.

That time has come and gone.

Now, for the most part, I find her way too full of herself, way too arrogant, way too pompous and, very often, condescending.  And kinda irrelevant, too, now that I think about it.  She no longer represents my views.

Other than that I think she’s fab.

Last week she wrote a column on climate change.  Well, preached, actually.  And, in the end, she decided we’re way too hysterical about global warming — the planet will survive and so will we.  Well, she’s certainly entitled to her opinion, there’s no arguing with that.  And she may even turn out to be right.  But until then …

What might her explanation be for the fact that, in Toronto today, it is currently -1 celsius (feels like -5 with the windchill) and it’s snowing?  On April 15.  And yesterday it was 21 celsius. I went out wearing a T-shirt, without a jacket.  I didn’t need socks, either.  Convertible tops were down, terrace cafes and restaurants were doing a booming business and it felt almost like summer.

Day 344. It’s Bitchin’

I remember it very clearly.  It was a long, cold, miserable winter, we had this year.  Endless, in fact.  It started early and ended late.  Lots and lots of snow.  More than I’ve ever seen, in the almost thirty years I’ve lived here.

And it was damp.  Went right through you.  Chilled you to the bone, no matter how many layers of warm clothing you had on.  I shivered day after day, week after week, month after month.  If I didn’t absolutely, positively have to go out, I did not.  I hibernated.  Like a bear, in a cave.

It was a misery, all right.  And I remember the promise I made to myself, when we were really in the thick of it.  When it seemed like there’d be no end to it.  When it was still snowing and blowing and freezing in March.  When it was supposed to be spring.  When I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering.

“If summer ever comes, no matter how hot it gets, I will NOT complain.  I will NOT moan.  I will NOT groan.