UNIVERSAL LOVE - It Sounds Good In Theory

I live in Calgary - a Canadian city nestled around a quaint river valley, and just out of reach of a magnificent mountain range. A large section of this city’s population is a by-product of those mountains. It is a demographic to which I proudly belong. We are, for the most part, a mass of unshaven, granola-eating, nature-loving, neo-druids. We wear beads, ripped jeans, fleece jackets, wool socks and Birkenstocks. We grow our hair long. We listen to acoustic music. “Organic” is good. “Anti-bacterial” is bad. Our homes are filled with mountain bikes, kayaks, backpacks and racks of assorted climbing paraphernalia. And we love our mountains.

Our mountains, however, don’t seem to love us back. They often throw unpleasant weather our way. I’m not talking about isolated incidents of highly concentrated meteorological badness like tornadoes or hurricanes or flash floods or famine. I’m not talking about geological fury – there is no threat of earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunami, mudslides or sinkholes. Catastrophes, in general, are not a worry to us.

The mountains, instead, create simply unpleasant weather. Cloudy skies. Cool temperatures. It’s really a very temperate climate. Insanely temperate. We occupy the Generation-X of weather patterns – we experience neither highs nor lows. Winters are mild. Spring is milder. Fall starts early, and nobody is ever really certain exactly when it’s winter again.

Calgary’s occupants are afforded, at best, a two-week summer. Usually, it doesn’t happen at all. You have to keep an eye out for it. When, or if, it comes you have to stop what you’re doing, throw on a pair of shorts, get out there and enjoy it. If you’re not attentive, you’ll miss it. I’m not complaining – given the Earthly rage that we’respared, it’s not a bad deal. It just takes some getting used to.

Today, around lunchtime, I looked out the window and saw that it was here. I calmly reached into my bottom desk drawer, pulled out my emergency shorts, and prepared to abandon the climate-controlled confines of my office. All around me, co-workers were quietly doing the same.

I stepped outside onto a shaded street. Warm summer air embraced me lovingly. It began to rub the tension out of my shoulders. It whispered softly in my ear. I continued down the block, wrapped in the arms of shadows from buildings. My apprehensions began to dissolve. A warm breeze ran it's fingers through my hair. I began to remember that summer feels good. Summer feels real good. I smiled, just a little. My toes curled in my sandals. This tired, old, familiar city that has been my home for the better part of decade suddenly felt exotic and new. A tingle ran down my spine, and I fell in love with it all over again.

At the end of the block the shadows ended. I stepped forward. The universe adjusted its position and gave me a big, sloppy, sunny lick. From the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, I was dripping in hot sunlight that had come screaming through thousands of miles of empty space, aimed directly at me. I felt special. I felt love.

Then, I felt horror. As I stood there, basking the sun's celestial saliva, I realized something awful. The universe wasn't professing it’s undying love. It’s never this nice in Calgary. The breeze, the shadows, the sunlight – the universe was coming on to me! It was trying to lube me up! Dear god, this was foreplay!! And, *gasp*, we all know what comes after foreplay... The Universe! That's right. It' can't fool me! It's trying to screw me!! It was getting ready to unload a cartload of cosmic cum on me. I know – it’s happened to me before!