Traditionally, I consider February my “slow” month—a period of time when more than a few businesses, art galleries, restaurants, theaters and the like, shutter for a few weeks in anticipation of the hustle and bustle that spring inevitably ushers in here in the Upper Delaware River region.
In My Humble Opinion
If you don’t know what a hashtag is, don’t feel bad, you are not alone.
Of course, I’m referring to the epic ice storm that rained down on the Upper Delaware River region a few days ago, and not the Broadway play written by Eugene O’Neill in 1946. Yep, it’s that time of year again, when I’m tempted to whine incessantly about the weather.
While many of you are fans of winter and all things associated with it, I’m not that guy. Oh, sure—it can be picture-postcard-pretty here in the Upper Delaware River region, and I do enjoy taking photos in the winter wonderland, which helps the days pass.
While I tend to refrain from making public declarations of New Year’s resolutions, I do make a list that I keep on the down low. I figure that if I don’t speak it aloud, the inevitable failure to “stick to my guns” will be less humiliating. That said, number one on the list for 2019 was to “just say no.” Was. As in already past tense.
I’m not much of a cook. Fortunately my expectations are fairly low when it comes to putting food on the table. Since every night is singles night here at Camp Fox, the complaints are few and far between.
I’ve always been a fan of tradition—undoubtedly related to my reluctance to embrace change. Whatever the reason, I find comfort in revisiting the past. I don’t want to live there, mind you, and these days I need help remembering what happened last week. That’s where being a photojournalist comes in handy. I have evidence.
Well, that’s not entirely true. With mice in the basement and squirrels in the attic, there’s plenty of “stirring” at this time of year. The never-ending battle rages on.
There. I said it. In the wake of recent controversy over the classic holiday tune, I can’t help but think of poor Frank Loesser, who penned those lyrics in 1944, and is surely spinning in his grave.
Though I’m rarely at a loss for words, every great once in a while I allow others to get their two cents in, and often find out that they know far more than I on any given subject. Now that December is upon us, there are scads of holiday-themed events happening throughout the Upper Delaware River region.