← Columns

The Cold Truth

The Source

I had no reason to think that Bud would ever lie to me. He and his wife Doris had spent their lives working outdoors as contractors in Springfield then moved to Naples, Illinois, to build their dream home and retire. Within a year a series of miracles presented themselves and they were called upon to build Green Pastures Christian Campground, so instead of a comfy retirement by the fireplace they spent most of their remaining years again working through the snow and heat of an Illinois climate. I’d often work alongside them in constructing their lodges and dormitories, and when we’d break for lunch on a blazing hot day Bud would pour himself a cup of hot coffee. He said, “Makes you sweat. Keeps you cool.” Bud spoke in short sentences. When winter whipped the Meredosia hillside he’d drink nothing but iced tea. “Makes you shiver. Keeps you warm.” Since he was a trustworthy fella I tried this a time or two with not such great results. Hot coffee made me hotter and iced tea sitting on a cold slab of concrete just gave me the chills. As another Illinois winter infiltrates my bone marrow I find myself searching out new ways to stay warm. A lady friend who lives in Jacksonville told me that alternating hot and cold water while taking a shower would take off the chill since cold water improves the blood circulation. I tried this and although she lives several blocks away I think she could hear me scream. She also won’t let a visitor leave through her back door if he came in the front so she might be just a bit superstitious. I recently wrote a play to celebrate the upcoming anniversary of Jacksonville High School and among the hairy emails sent to me for research was the tale of a JHS teacher who taught on the top floor of the old high school and who’d duct tape a brick to the little button on top of his classroom’s thermostat. He said that was the only way of ever getting heat up that high in the building. A cousin of mine said she had a father who insisted on keeping the thermostat at a numbingly uncomfortable level. She told me that she’d freeze a hotdog then put it on top of the thermostat when the old miser went to bed. I once had a group of students touring the grand old houses in London. and we noticed that all the curtains were about two feet longer than necessary, thus bunching up on the floor in front of each window. Our guide said that insulation was so poor in early London that the extra material helped fend off drafts. To our Midwest minds it simply looked as if someone had measured wrong. However, it’s interesting to note that when you enter the British Embassy in Washington D.C. the curtains are piled up below each window. I’ve never fully understood plum pudding or Benny Hill so I simply put this on my list of British befuddlements. I have a friend and former biology teacher who built his own homemade water heater. His source of heat is compost . . .banana peels, apple cores, leftover spaghetti, and what other organic matter he can find. The thought of last night’s supper rotting in my basement is more dreadful than being cold, so I’ve yet to start hauling my garbage down to the water tank. The AARP magazine is usually a pretty good source of wisdom but their advice to avoid putting my bed in a room without an exterior wall makes little since in my brick home where every room faces the outside. My grandmother would often heat up a bag of uncooked soup beans in the oven before going to bed then place them under the covers between her and Grandpa. I never asked him what is what like to turn over in the middle of the night and land on a bag of hot beans. Science says that everyone’s body has a “set point,” and that if you spend a great deal of time out in the cold then you’ll need less heat when you come indoors. Babies and hibernating animals have lots of what’s called “brown fat,” as opposed to “white fate” and this keeps them from shivering. Acclimating yourself to the cold will build up your brown fat. I rank this suggestion right up there with keeping compost in my cellar and Benny Hill. Amazon offers house slippers that can be microwaved as well as a pajama sack, an electric pouch in which you slip your jammies before entering them. Just my luck I’d be microwaving my shoes when someone knocks on the door. I shared my cold weather angst with an email friend and her advice was probably the best. “Move to Phoenix,” she said. I think I’d rather drink iced tea in the snow.