You arrive at a restaurant and despite having a reservation they seat you right by the door. It’s a cold night and there’s a draft. With every new diner, you and your eating partner get a fresh, frosty gust. The hot food on your table is practically seared with icicles. Instead of catching up on sports or gossip swirling around the federal indictments of former classmates, you complain about the wind. You curse it with each forceful gale.
This sort of thing happens all the time, and not always inside a climate uncontrolled environment like a busy trattoria. From the safety of a basement dwelling or behind a reinforced steel wall, they’ll decry tornados, hurricanes, and zephyrs. I suppose I understand it. These natural elements can be quite inconvenient or scary. However, a cyclone is only a few notches between a cool breeze.
All this hot air around wind obscures the point – we need air to live. We’re not fish, okay? And since when can you have too much of a good thing? You want air, then you don’t get to be picky about what form it arrives it. The same goes for dehydrated individuals decrying sudden deluges. Isn’t this what you wanted? You can’t have it both ways.
Say what you will about a certain type of natural disaster, but to me, it’s mostly a breath of fresh air.
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