Nov. 17--The catalogs are pouring into my mailbox these days, and though they aren't wrapped in brown paper, there's no disguising what they are:
Warm-clothing soft porn.
It's hot stuff, or so I hope -- page after page of high-tech, ultra-light cold-weather clothes, arousing wild fantasies of the ultimate winter excitement: keeping warm without looking hideous.
How I love it when Eddie Bauer talks techy to me: StormRepel DWR finish, waterproof/breathable protection rated to 20K/20K, 800-fill StormDown with DownTek, windproof Pertex ripstop nylon shell ...
L.L. Bean is not to be outdone: Sixty-gram PrimaLoft Gold highly-compressible polyester insulation, 850-fill DownTek, waterproof TEK2.5 nylon shell ...
Then Lands' End arrives for a little menage a trois, until I finally tear myself away and calm myself down with a nice cup of tea.
It's an embarrassing addiction, but surely understandable. Chicagoans know -- and this early cold snap has reminded any of us who have forgotten -- that the ability to keep warm holds the key to mental well-being in the coming months.
In deference to that mental well-being, let's not say how many months.
The prospect of spending another winter encased in my 25-year-old down parka, which is admirably warm but pretty unattractive, gets me, well, down. I can't help fantasizing.
We all have our coping mechanisms, and my obsessive sessions with winter outerwear catalogs are part of mine.
Another is The Talk.
Every year at about this time -- OK, usually at a time about a month from now -- I sit myself down for a stern talking-to about how I, a lifelong heat-loving weather wimp, should handle winter.
Some years I listen to myself. Other years I don't and wish I had.
Because the winter program I've developed in the last few years, after hitting a low point when I started crying as I was walking across the Michigan Avenue bridge in a sleet storm, works.
As proof, I submit last year's winter.
Remember that polar vortex extravaganza that sent most people into the slough of despond? I loved it.
Admittedly, it's not a fair test. Last winter was also sunny and snowily beautiful. The real challenge for me is gray cold, day after day after miserable, depressing ...
Oops. Back to my program, one tenet of which I just violated. Even on dull, frigid days, it helps raise my spirits and actually enjoy the winters I once cursed.
So I welcome you to join me for The Talk, and hope those of you who have read of my program before will see it as a helpful reminder.
This is what I will be telling myself:
Stay outside.
This is the bedrock of the whole program -- to not let winter make you flee indoors, where cabin fever can set in, but to go outdoors and enjoy it.
Walk along the lakefront, which in winter is spectacular and pretty much all yours. Walk in the forest preserves, where you can see animal tracks in the snow. Walk through the city, where you can end up pink-cheeked and warm in a coffeehouse.
Keep warm.
Some people hold off on putting on their heavy clothes, trying to work the psychology that if you don't dress for winter, it isn't really winter.
But I consider it crucial to prevent a chill. Once the cold gets into your bones, it's hard to shake it off -- and easy to fall into the old fear of winter that you're trying to defeat.
So I'll be assuring myself that it's OK to haul out the heavy guns early. Like now.
And to always wear a hat and scarf and keep my hands and feet warm. Chemical hand warmers are more exciting than warm-clothing porn.
Watch your attitude.
Don't complain about the weather, I will remind myself. Look for the beauty in winter -- the sharpness of the air, the elegance of the bare-leafed trees, the glitter of the snow -- and talk that up instead, if only to yourself.
In fact, especially to yourself.
Do winter sports.
Skiing has saved me. But anything that can only be done in winter -- ice skating outside, sledding, winter woods walking -- provides a reason to love it.
The Talk will be accompanied by a look at my calendar to schedule ski trips.
Remember that you are a cold weather extreme adventurer.
This was my breakthrough attitude-adjuster. We are all extreme adventurers in winter. We walk through snow and over ice, through high winds and in extreme temperatures. We should be featured in the Eddie Bauer catalog.
And if you see yourself as completing an arctic Ironman on your way to work, the commute may feel more like an accomplishment than a punishment.
I will conclude The Talk with an expression of hope that this year, I listen to it.
If The Talk helps you, too, I'll see you out there.
And if you're wearing a sleek, high-tech winter jacket, let's talk.
blbrotman@tribpub.com
