Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column savoring the peel of thunder.
Gray skies have never been good for our state of mind, as they tend to induce rash fits of soup-guzzling and ice cream gluttony. Cold and dreary days are worse than toothaches and allergy rashes, if you ask us, because it normally takes some detective work to figure out what’s bothering us. With the aforementioned examples, it’s pretty obvious why we’re having a bad day; days like Tuesday, it usually takes a brief glimpse of sunshine to remind us what we’re missing.
Tuesday’s drizzle, hail and haze, however, left us quite satisfied. It occurred to us that nature has a noise-level most of us often take for granted. Yeah, we all like to walk out into the woods and sit quietly while listening to the birds or a babbling creek. That’s why we all moved to Summit Up Land.
And when Mother Nature does make noise, we’re likely no happier for it: gale-force winds drive us indoors, rain on the rooftop can drive a brother insane and snow, our most beloved of weather phenomena, doesn’t make much noise at all. That’s why yesterday’s thunder left us chuckling.
Call it clap-and-boom, blame it on deities bowling or visualize volumes of air at different pressures rolling over each other like a whip cracking, it was a comforting sound to us, and not just because we need the precipitation like we need our Prozac. It’s a reminder the world is still turning, that the cycle continues and life, our friends, is getting the lightning charge it needs to make it through a hot summer.
Men should not be allowed to work as catalog operators.
Let us say right now that this is not our vote, but rather that of the more estrogen-laden Summit Up Staffers around us. Seems one of them called to place an order with a certain catalog, which shall remain nameless (except to say it’s all about “Secrets,” even though the clothing they sell is so revealing there really are no secrets) and was surprised when the person on the other end said, “Hi, this is Josh, how can I help you?”
Needless to say, this staffer was a little bit shy about ordering the dominatrix starter kit and fluffy-bunny bustier. We won’t even get into what happened when “Josh” asked what size our staffer wanted to order.
We, on the other hand, thought this was absolutely hilarious. We told her she should have turned the situation on the operator. She should have started talking dirty and providing way too much information to see if she could unnerve him.
Besides, her discomfort is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to getting back at the other half for every man who’s ever had to go to the store for women’s hygiene products.
After seeing the injured bird pictured with Monday’s column, Mark called to let everyone know what they should do if they discover an injured or abandoned animal in the wild. Mark volunteers with the state’s Wildlife Rescue Team, which specializes in just this sort of thing. So, if you see a bird with a broken wing, or a baby bear wandering around with no mommy in sight, call the team at (970) 262-8668.
It’s Wednesday, unless you’re a World Cup soccer player in Asia, in which case, it could already be Thursday.
We’re out shaking the cookie sheets ’cause we like the thunder sound so much …
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