Dog days of winter

As I drove into work today (while seeming to catch every single red light along the way and once I got there the elevator in my building didn't work) I looked up to the lead colored sky and had an epiphany.

Because I got to work before 8 and will leave after 5:30 and because it's raining, I'm probably not going to see the sun today.

And neither will you.

To make up for that staggering lack of vitamin D production and stave off SAD, today, Wednesday, Jan. 7, this post is brought to you by Jimmy Buffett.

"I gotta go where there ain't any snow,
where there ain't any blow,
'cause my fin sinks so low.
I gotta go where it's warm."

Stare into the sun (don't worry, it's only a picture, you won't burn your retinas down to cinders).

Now, count slowly back from 10...nine...eight... you're getting warmer ...seven...six...five... the sky's getting brighter ...four...three...two...one...

You're now very relaxed. Think forward (or back if you're that kind of person, I prefer the future to the past). The invading inaugural hoards are long gone, the bars are again serving drinks outside, the cherry blossoms have bloomed, covering the Tidal Basin in a blanket of pink and white and, most important, the sun has returned to its place high in the noontime sky.

It's a warm, pleasantly muggy Monday evening in July and you're headed down to the Mall for Screen on the Green.

You're warm, in fact, there's a small trickle of sweat just starting to roll slowly down your back between your shoulder blades as you stroll with your blanket under your arm from the Smithsonian Metro station toward Seventh Street. Just after crossing Seventh, you stop, letting everyone pass you by to turn around and look west toward the setting summer sun.

Deep breath...

It's fiery orange and warm on your face. The Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorials are glowing. A sheen of sweat beads on your forehead. The lights of Rosslyn twinkle in the deep background.

Soak in the view...

The crowd is gathering for the movie. You scan the faces, but know to look right in the middle, right in front of the screen, because that's where your friend always is, camped out on the prime SotG real estate. You spot a hand bouncing up-and-down and waving in the air holding a cell phone and smile as you start picking your way through the sea of moms and dads, sons and daughters, hipsters, office workers, students, staffers and lobbyists to help hold the prized territory against all encroachments.

The air is heavy, but you breathe it in deeply, tasting summer and feeling the warmth of July surrounding you.

You, and everyone else who arrives, are welcomed like a long lost friend even though it's only been a few days since you last saw each other. Chatting about this-and-that as the gloaming settles over the city, the excitement builds as the sun disappears for another day below the horizon.

The crowd shuffles about as everyone gets ready...crouching...waiting for the music to begin as the camera speeds through the small town...the scene shifts toward space, toward a single star in the distance...and, as the music crescendos everyone jumps to their feet to spend one last burst of energy and begins dancing and waving their arms to the music.*

The movie begins as night fully descends. The smell of Off wafts through the air as a MPD siren Dopplers in the distance down Constitution Avenue from the Capitol toward the Ellipse.

Nibbling on some crackers or celery or red licorice, you look around at the faces of your friends surrounding you lit by the glow from the screen. Content, you smile and don't even mind as you slowly pull your arm across your forehead.

*In case you haven't been to SotG, it's sponsored by HBO and the evening begins with the famous "HBO in Space" opener you remember from childhood. The tradition at SotG is for everyone to dance as the music crescendos.