Deadsplinter Up! All Night: Winter

The inevitability of dark, cold mornings

Photo of a snow-covered city street.
Photo by Pixabay at

We woke up last Friday to our first accumulation of snow, which meant shoveling the walk and driveway at 6 a.m. for me. Good times. More winter weather to come, no doubt — love it or hate it.



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  1. snowing here at mo…but turning back to the normal rain again tomorow

    which sucks…. near frozen rain is horrible…..snow is soft and fluffy and not very wet

    • This is not music-related, but one of the online trashy tabloids I read had a scare headline about how everyone north of the equator was experiencing paralyzing snowstorms and snow accumulations, especially Europe. I can’t remember the last time I saw snow on the ground, and I do not live in the Sahara. Five years ago, maybe? Works for me, though, because even if you’re only a little mobility-impaired, the last thing you want to see is a Thomas Kinkade-like winter wonderland scene. And speaking of Thomas Kinkade, if you’re into tabloid journalism like I am, read about his final years.

      Can I bore you with a little story? Something like 30 years ago I was on a road trip with a friend and we stopped in at a fairly high-end shopping mall, where we rendez-voused with his sister in the food court, and then we took a stroll around. In front of one storefront I asked, “Thomas Kinkade Gallery…what reputable art dealer would open a gallery in a shopping mall? The next town over has a perfectly lovely downtown with a couple of empty storefronts. What kind of art do you think he deals in? Is it some kind of trangressive pop-up thing? Because you know, just last week I was dumped by a subway disruption in this Brooklyn neighborhood I’d never been to and there was this horrendous—”

      “Let’s find out!” said Sis, knowing exactly what this was. “And the pieces only increase in value!” She was being sarcastic. This family was far more well-bred than mine, despite our shopping mall food court lunch.

      So we went in, and I asked, “Is Thomas Kinkade not the dealer but the artist?”

      Then came the saleswoman at 12 o’clock high. The rest is a blur, but I remember a lot of the paintings were snowy scenes and, at the time, outside the mall it was 90+ degrees and 90+% humidity.

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