THe FReCKLeD FINGeR

Winter put on it's serious hat late this season.  NYC has gotten somewhere like 29in of snow this passed storm, blizzard or so terribly named 'snurricane'... oh all those comedeorologists.

I decided to take the dogs for a trek through the deep snow in Central Park.  The white wilderness brought out all kinds of folks to bask in nature's latest gift:  The asshole kids and their snowball fights, the neglectful dads that try to make up for their work week absence with a 'weekend-warrior-esque' barrage of attention and of course, the cross country skiers... what the hell?!?!

Yep, cross-fuckin-country-skiers.  In Central Park.  I am almost positive, and I am never willing to say such a thing, that these trendy asses not only didn't own these skis before the Olympics, but also have never heard of such a thing as using skis to do anything more than get down a mountain.

You know what,  I am being rather untruthful and biased about this.  The more I think about it, I absolutely would not mind it, nor rant about it, if I had seen a 25yr old X-Game jackass come racing by me.  In fact, I would have to think about investing in my own set of skis.  What I encountered, however, was much, much different than a younger chap in jeans, long hair and reeking of Red Bull and vagina... Much, much different.

This woman was no spring chicken.  To be honest, this woman wasn't even a chicken in the Spring of 1933, when the Star Spangled Banner was adopted as our national anthem.  She had to be at least 75yrs of age and she was not X Country Skiing like we see our national heroes do on NBC... No, she was walking with skis on.

As if that didn't annoy me enough, she hollered at me:

"Hey!  Yea, you!  Your dogs are running in our skiing tracks!  They're ruining the tracks we use!"

Wow, the nerve of this artifact.  I appreciate the fact that you've seen many years, lived through many wars and at one point you walked out of a movie theatre thinking "Where did they find that giant gorilla?".  But right now, at this point of your life, you are wrong.  This is New York City.  This is Central Park in New York City.  This is the Bridal Path in Central Park in New York City.  If all of this glorious white stuff was not on the Earth, there would be sticks, chips and dirt.  If you want a dog-free cross country skiing experience, jump on I-95 and drive North. 

I, along with the rest of our country, am behind you in your bid to get the gold medal for Ladies 300m Heart Attack.