Friday, December 30, 2005

The New Year is coming the New Year coming.......

“I thought we weren’t exchanging gifts.”

“We’re not.”

“Then what’s in the box?”

“It’s a pre we’re not giving gifts gift.”

“Uh huh…It’s a pretty small box, what did you do?”

“Sweetheart I saw these before we made our no exchanging gifts deal and I thought they’d look great on you.” (Note the word “saw”, a technicality maybe but it gets me off the hook)

“Diamond earrings? Oh my god they’re beautiful…… Thank you honey….you really shouldn’t have.”

“I know… sometimes I’m just stupid that way.”

Men, we can do a lot of dumb things in our lives but diamond earrings almost always gets you at least a two point conversion out of trouble.

Plus they look good on her.

Last night I went to The Holiday Bowl.

Oregon versus Oklahoma.

San Diego has been filled for a week with people from one group that can’t seem to drive over 45 miles and hour and people in pickup trucks with gun racks with horns that vaguely sound like “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU”.

It was last years Holiday Bowl that gave me the idea to start this blog.

I wanted to find a fun way to continue to write new material, which is always a pain for comedians. We love performing we hate writing.

I figured I’d write this for a year and then once I got into the habit of creating new material I’d stop the blog and just write the material for the stage.

Well a funny thing happened on the way to writing…..

I like it.

I like the comments and the e-mails and the feedback.

I admit it…..

I’m an attention whore.

So my New Years resolution is to continue to write and to do my best to make people laugh.


And to lose weight, get in shape, be kind to woodland creatures (unless they taste like chicken), conserve energy, go to church for more than weddings and when people die, recycle and blah blah blah blah blah blah………….

Happy New Year!!!

Friday, December 23, 2005

I'm Dreaming of a White Chocolate Chip Macadamia Nut Cookie Christmas.

It is my belief that my darling wonderful wife actually strives to find new and exciting ways to piss me off.

One of her favorites is to hop into the shower in the morning and use all of the hot water when…..SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO GO ANYWHERE and I need to go to the office!!!!

I swear if she didn’t own a sword I’d flush every toilet and turn on every faucet in the house while she’s in there.

But…she owns a sword…and I don’t have the catlike reflexes I used to have.

I just keep running the shower scene from Psycho over and over again in my head until she’s done and my anger seems to pass.

If I don’t do anything but just act mad she immediately counters my mad with her mad and lets faces it guys, it just ain’t worth the aggravation.

Long term marriage is about survival, it’s not about a hot shower.

A successful long term marriage is also about dealing with your wife’s “ideas”.

My wife got the “idea” that baking cookies for Christmas would be fun.

Here’s the thing.

My wife doesn’t do kitchen.


But in the spirit of teamwork and “this is something we can do together” I agreed to bake cookies with my wife.

I have to admit that the actual cookie baking went well. She measured, I mixed, and although messy, it all worked out okay.

In the end we had cookies.

Thousands of cookies.

We had cookies everywhere.

I’m a fat man in recovery.

I’ve lost close to one hundred pounds.

I don’t do cookies.

I quit smoking on April 20th 1987. I woke up, realized my lungs had forgotten how to breathe, wheezed, coughed up what I think was a lung and haven’t had a cigarette since.

I did it cold turkey.

Quitting smoking cold turkey was way easier than losing all that weight.

Eventually you hate the smell of cigarette smoke.

You never hate the smell of freshly baked cookies.

So I’m staring at thousands of cookies.

I’m getting cookie cravings.

I’m ready to go on Safari to hunt Keebler Elves.

I need a cookie.

My wife’s a skinny person.

Skinny people don’t get cookie cravings.

Skinny people love to give fat people cookies and candy for Christmas, because it fills skinny people with Christmas cheer and fills fat people with chocolate chips.

Skinny people also get cookies and candy from other skinny people as well. They don’t eat the stuff they just leave it out so fat people can see it and go insane.

“You need to get these cookies out of the house.”

“What’s the big deal? Just use willpower you’ll be fine.”

(I don’t know who this “Will Power” is but this son of a bitch needs to die.)

“Honey I have no will power. If I had will power I wouldn’t have made the damn cookies in the first place.”

“Have “a” cookie and then that’s it. Your craving will be satisfied.”

"Did you just blink twice and wiggle your nose? Oh… well… then I’ll just have one cookie and then I’ll be okay. That’s all I need just one cookie. Just one little cookie. That’s all I need. That’s kind of like going to the Nordstrom Half Off Yearly Sale and only BUYING ONE SHOE!!!”

“Have a carrot.”

“Oh thank the heavens I can have a carrot. Whooooo Hoooooo thank you Jesus. And on the eighth day God created carrots and celery and all the rest of that crap that doesn’t taste like FRESHLY BAKED COOKIES!!!!”

“How about an apple?”

“That sounds great. Have you got an oatmeal macadamia nut chocolate chip apple in the fridge for me? Cause that would sure satisfy my craving. Well do ya…..punk?”

“Are you done?”


“Are you getting an apple?”

“Yes, but it sucks.... You wanna make pizza together?”

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Who are those people in that Christmas Card we got?

I think it was Margaret Thatcher or possibly Gandhi that said,” I have not yet begun to shop.” and so the tradition of the day after Christmas sale was born.

Men…..RUN AWAY!!!

This is a scary event.

Women are preparing.

I know this because the Aikido, boxing and kickboxing classes at the gym are now filled with aggressive females ready to kick some shopping ass.

Normally at the gym you hear, “HIIIYAAAA” or “KEEEEYAAA” now you hear things like, “I SAW IT FIRST BITCH!”

Don’t tell me a woman can’t be president of the United States.

If there’s a sale they’ll invade anything.

And I went to the post office to drop some mail at the drive up mailboxes.

There are eight, count them, EIGHT mailboxes to choose from.

There’s a lady two cars in front of me that’s playing Let’s Make a Deal with the mailboxes trying to figure out which one to put her Christmas cards in. Why? So they’ll make it on time?

Does it really matter?

Couldn’t the Post Office just throw all the Christmas Cards in a pile and give each of us a few?

That way everyone gets some Christmas cheer.

They all say the same thing don’t they?

What about those cards with family photos of people who don’t look like that the rest of the year?

“Um… this card is from Bob and Sue but I have no idea who those children are.”

“They must have used Photoshop because those kids look cute.”

“They are cute but why do they look Asian?”

Have you ever wondered if any of the Christmas cards you’ve received were sent to you by mistake and since you don’t know who the people are you send them back a Christmas card in return so you don’t offend them?

I know I have.

“Who are the Swaborski’s?”

“I have no clue.”

“Well send them a picture of the kids we’ve got to get rid of these things.”

I’ll bet everyone one of us has at least one of those.

Without question the dumbest thing is the Christmas letter. What are these people thinking? I swear most of these letters are just made up.

“Well it took six years but Little Joe finally graduated from high school. Uncle Bob had testicular cancer but they got it in time. He leans to the left when he walks but eventually he’ll get a fake testicle to balance him out. Aunt Mary had the hives twice and the gout once. She says she’s having a reaction to Uncle Bob. Jeannie and the twins are doing okay since Frank’s arrest. He should be out by next year. She’s got a job at Wal-Mart now making big money and may buy a new doublewide. Sheila’s got a fancy job as a hostess at International House of Pancakes. Can you believe it? She says she thinks she met three foreigners. She could tell by their order….”

Fifty bucks says everyone that writes a Christmas letter has a blog.


Maybe I should write a Christmas letter…….

I know one thing one of my New Years resolutions is to find out who all the people are that sent us Christmas cards this year.

Especially those Asian kids.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Tis the season to be a cool grandpa.

Yesterday I overheard a man say he was getting “The Book of Knowledge” set of encyclopedias for his grandson for Christmas.

I remember those.

We bought them for around $12,000 when my first son was born from a company I think was called “Grolier”, which is Latin for “Look… books”.

Those books were prominently displayed in our living room so people would know that although at six months old he was still pooping his pants, we were preparing him to be a freakin genius.

That idea paid off 16 years later when I came home one day and my son said to me, “You know dad, sometimes there’s just not enough Cheetoh’s.”

There’s nothing like a private education.

As soon as we found out my wife was pregnant for my second son we got a call from the same salesman. It was uncanny; apparently he had the psychic ability to know when my wife was ovulating.

We spent another ridiculous amount of money on boxes of cards with words and pictures of animals. It came with a pen with a tip that would light up when the child matched the right word to the right picture.

It was suppose to reinforce the correct word in the child’s mind.

I remember briefly thinking that a rolled up newspaper would have worked just as well for a hell of a lot less money…. but that would be wrong.

You spend a lot of money trying to buy educational things for your kids that will improve their lives.

If you have boys they just want to make a fort out of the box the stuff came in.

So I’ve decided that my job as a grandpa is not to buy boring educational stuff.

I bought my grandson a remote control NIKKO Skyline GTR R34 racing car.

“What is this?”

“It’s a present for Alex.”

“He’s three years old.”

“I know isn’t it great? He’ll love this.”

“Did you read the box?”


“Are you an idiot? It says and I quote, “ CAUTION – ELECTRIC TOY: Not recommended for children under “8 years of age” as with all electric products, precautions should be observed during handling and use to prevent electric shock.

You bought this for a three year old?”

“First of all trust me; I know what I’m doing. Secondly it says not “recommended”. That’s like a guideline that’s not a law. Kids today are much smarter than they used to be. I saw on the news where age three is the new age ten.”

“You did not see that on the news.”

“Maybe it was on “The View”, but I saw something like that.”

“Are you sure it didn’t say forty eight is the new nine?”


“Admit it; you bought that car for yourself.”

“I did not. This is a safety issue. When Alex is sixteen he will already have driving experience. He’ll be way ahead of the rest of his peers. They may even lower his insurance rates.”

“Do I look like I’m smiling numb nuts?”

“No but give it time that insurance line was funny.”

“Not so much.”

“You know this isn’t fair. I want my grandson to have more than I had when I was a kid. Do you know what I had to play with when I was growing up? A stick, A STICK!!!

Do you have any idea of what that was like? Other kids would be playing army man; they’d have real helmets and real toy guns.

I had a sauce pot and a stick.

A pot and a stick, that’s what I had and I was damn glad to have it. My grandson is not going to be walking around the neighborhood with a pot on his head carrying his toy stick. Not my grandson.”

“Are you done?”

“No. I used to walk thirty miles on a sunny day to find the right stick. My father used to tell me, “You don’t know the meaning of the word stick.” Well I found out because I had to work to earn my stick. I wasn’t just handed any old stick. My grandson isn’t going to wake up one day and look in the mirror and say, “If I only had a stick.” Not my grandson.”

“Now are you done?”

“Can I give him the car?”

“A sauce pot and a stick? What was your nickname? Alfalfa? Were you one of “The Little Rascals?” He’s three years old. That remote control toy car you bought is bigger than he is. He’d be safer with your stupid stick.”

“He might poke his eye out. That’s what my mom used to tell me I was going to do with my stick.”

“I’d like to tell you what to do with your stick.”

“Can I please give him the car?”

“He can only play with it with adult supervision.”

“Kids think all adults have “super vision”. My mom could see things that I hadn’t even broken yet. She used to say she had “eyes in the back of her head.”

“Adult supervision means that his mother or grandmother needs to be watching his father and his grandfather as they play with Alex’s toy car.”

“Hmmm…. I should have bought two of them.”

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Mission Impossible?

“Remember, we are not exchanging gifts this year. You got your TV and I got my remodel.”


Will I get in trouble if I get her a gift?


Will I get in trouble if I don’t get her a gift?

Yes and no.

I have a Christmas Paradox, which would have been a great name for a holiday TV special starring Herve Villechaize… but he’s dead.

If I don’t get her a gift then when we open gifts (in front of her whole family) I’m going to look like a cheapskate, a bum, a loser.

So my mission, if I decide to accept it, is to get her a gift that says Merry Christmas without looking like I said MERRY CHRISTMAS THIS IS YOUR GIFT FROM YOUR HUSBAND WHO IS NOT CHEAP AND DIDN’T LISTEN TO YOU WHEN YOU SAID WE ARE NOT GETTING EACH OTHER GIFTS?

As usual my Christmas will self destruct in 30 seconds if I screw this up.

There’s only one solution.


Sears is where America shops, which is appropriate because most of the sales clerks are from India.

Not many people think expensive romantic Christmas gifts when they think Sears, unless of course your wife or girlfriend is a gardener or a carpenter.

I went to Sears last night.

“Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada DITADUM DITADUM tada Dum Dum….”



“Are you singing the theme song from Mission Impossible?”

“Oh I didn’t know you got that show in India? Yes I’m trying to find a gift for my wife who I’m not supposed to get a gift for because that was the deal but I’ll look stupid and cheap in front of her family so I need to find a non Christmas Christmas gift.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Never mind. Where are the vacuums? The vacuum guys know everything.”

“By the escalators.”

“Thank you, nice dot, kind of looks like a Christmas tree ornament.”

“Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada DITADUM DITADUM tada Dum Dum….”

“Hey, how u doin? I’m trying to find a gift for my wife who I’m not supposed to get a gift for because that was the deal but I’ll look stupid and cheap in front of her family so I need to find a non Christmas Christmas gift.”

“Man I go through the same crap every year myself. Whatever you do don’t buy her a power drill. Don’t buy bath towels either. Hmmm….. What about a pet?”

“”What? Like goldfish or something?”

“I was thinking more like a dog or cat. Did you know the Kenmore 8500 with the exclusive Kenmore Hepa Filter System picks up all kinds of hair, dirt, rocks, rubber bands, paper clips, pens, pencils, weeds, cigarette butts and food scraps?”

“Boy you learn something new everyday. Thank you vacuum guy.”

“Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada Dum Dum tada DITADUM DITADUM tada Dum Dum….”


A pet?

We had living creatures in our home for twenty years. We had to potty train them, take them outside, clean up after them, and teach them tricks.

We finally got the last one out and married last year.

I don’t need a pet.


What to do? What to do?

(Here’s the thing…. I can’t tell you what I did. If I tell you then my wife will know because she’ll read it here and I’ll get in trouble. There is always the possibility that I haven’t done anything yet and the suggestions I get from you will solve my problem. Some people may think that the only reason I’m writing this is so that my wife will read this and then think I’m cute and go out and buy me another Christmas gift. Trust me, that ain’t gonna happen. So basically I’ll tell you after Christmas.)

One last note.

There are thousands of men and women that will not be home for Christmas this year, men and women of our armed forces. Regardless of your position on Iraq or the politics of today, take some time to support those men and women that keep us safe and secure so that we can enjoy the freedoms we have here in the United States.

If you see a member of our military and the opportunity permits, take ten seconds to just say thank you. That’s all it takes, one simple thank you. No politics, no taking sides, just ten seconds of your time. It makes a difference.

I want to personally wish a very Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to ENS Joel Coito and the crew of the Coast Guard Cutter Kukui.

Thank you.

“Semper Paratus”

Friday, December 09, 2005

Well did you look for them??????

Rrrrring! Rrrrrrring!


“Dad, it’s me A.J. I can’t find my pants.”


“My pants, my pants, I can’t find my pants.”

“Are you in Tijuana again?”

“Huh? No, I can’t find my lucky pants.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“Are my pants there?”

“Why would your pants be here?”

“Well they have to be somewhere.”

“When did you last see them?”

“I don’t remember but I know exactly where I put them and now they’re gone.”

“Did they have any distinguishing marks or features?”

“Dad they’re my lucky pants, you know the ones.”

“Son I hate to break this to you but I don’t actually pay attention to what your pants look like.”


“Hold on A.J. the other line is beeping.”


“Dad, It’s me Anthony. Kim threw out the Raisin Bran.”

“Hold on I’m helping A.J. find his pants.”

“His pants? What happened to his pants? He’s not in Tijuana is he?”

“Just hold on.”


“A.J. just go buy another pair of pants”

“But those were my lucky pants.”

“Hold on, I’m talking to your brother on the other line, Kim threw out the Raisin Bran.”

“My pants are more important than his Raisin Bran!!!”


“Son just go buy more Raisin Bran.”

“But dad, she keeps throwing my food out and bringing this weird crap into house. Dad she bought “hemp” brownie mix. Who the hell eats hemp?”

“Are you talking about today or in 1971?”

“Dad I swear I am looking at a bag of “Healthy Happy Hemp Brownie Mix” everything we have to eat has all this Alpha and Omega fatty acid crap in it. Homeless people wouldn’t eat this stuff.”

“Relax son let me finish with A.J. and his pants problem.”



“Hi Poppa daddy lost his pants.”

"Hi Alex where is your daddy now?”

“He’s looking under the newspaper. Poppa?”

“Yes Alex.”

“I can’t find my Spiderman. I think a burglar stole my Spiderman and daddy’s pants.”

“Well do you remember the last place you put Spiderman?”

“Yes I put him right over there. Here comes dad.”


“It was a burglar son he took Spiderman too.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Oh… hi… honey… The boys and Alex are on the phone. A.J. lost his pants Anthony lost his Raisin Bran and Alex lost his Spiderman, we think it was a burglar.”

“Idiot, give me the phone.”


“Mom I can’t find my lucky pants.”

“You didn’t go to Tijuana again did you?”

“No mom.”

“Then Melina took your pants to the dry cleaners. They’re probably on a hanger in your closet. Go check and let me talk to my grandson.”

“Hi gramma.”

“Hi sweetheart, don’t worry honey a burglar didn’t take your Spiderman, you know sweetheart if you picked up your toys you wouldn’t lose them. Go look in your toy box I’ll bet Spiderman is in there.”

“Mom? I found my pants. I think Melina hid them from me.”

“Uh huh, you think your wife hid your pants?”

“He’s learning.”

“You shut up.”

“I get it mom. Oh and Alex found Spiderman.”

“Okay son I love you and tell Alex gramma loves him too goodbye.”



“Hi mom Kim threw out my Raisin Bran and there’s nothing in the house to eat and everything that’s here is disgusting and tastes like dirt.”

“Look in the cabinet next to the sink.”


“Just do it.”

“Whoa! There are three boxes of Raisin Bran in here. Who put these in here?”

“Goodbye son, I love you.”

“Love you to mom.”

“What? What’s with that look? How was I supposed to know were all that stuff was?”

“Maybe if you put your own things away you’d have a clue.”

“How am I supposed to know where “away” is? You’re always putting things away. Away where? Maybe your away is different than my away.”

“Are you done?”


“Uh huh….”



“I can’t find my keys.”

Monday, December 05, 2005

Be careful what you wish for....

I’m hesitant to tell this story.

But I feel it is my duty to protect you.

Think of it as a public service announcement.

My wife let me get my Christmas present early.

It's all I ever wanted.

I bought a 62 inch wide screen Mitsubishi LCD DLP HDTV.

Some of you are saying BFD.

I also got Cox HDTV digital cable service.

I now have 300 plus channels of nothing worth watching that is crystal clear.

The other night I fell asleep watching the Sopranos on HBO.

Imagine Tony Soprano, Paulie Walnuts, Christopher Moltesanti and the rest of the gang on a 62 inch wide screen HDTV.

When I woke up I thought Batman was on. I was a little groggy but I was sure I saw the bat cave on my screen.

As I reached full consciousness I noticed a rose hanging from the bat cave swinging back and forth.

It was crystal clear.



That’s not the bat cave…..




A VAGINA!!!!!!


I had fallen asleep during the Sopranos and woke up during HBO’s “Real Sex”.

Do you have any idea what it is like to see an overweight lesbians 62 inch pierced vagina on your LCD DLP HDTV??????

There needs to be a law.

Oh god…. and that rose….

Who the hell sends flowers that way?

Wouldn’t a Hallmark card be more appropriate?

I got so scared I went around the house turning on all the lights and checking all the locks.

It was like the first time I saw the movie Alien.

I didn’t want that thing to get me.

I don’t ever want to see “Real Sex”, especially in HDTV. Real sex involves old ugly overweight bald people with utensils.

And that’s just the women.

If I wanted to see something like that I would watch National Geographic.

Maybe it’s just me, but don’t you kind of... sort of... think in your “mind” whenever you’re having sex you look like a porn star.

I mean… you know… in your mind.

Which may explain every once in a while why I hear my wife say, “Hellooo I don’t bend that way.”

And our minds don’t have HDTV.

That’s because there are certain things in life that should remain a bit fuzzy.

They don’t need to be on HBO HDTV.

On a 62 inch widescreen Mitsubishi LCD DLP HDTV.

By the way when is that Victoria’s Secret show on?

For you Sopranos fans you have to give me credit for not going for the obvious joke about Salvatore Bonpensiero’s nick name.

The rest of you can look it up.

Friday, December 02, 2005

Winter Wonderland my a..!!!!


This is the time of the year where the air is cool and crisp with just a hint of smog.

Most areas of the world have what is affectionately known as “weather”. Here in San Diego we have a slight chance of an occasional mist most likely in the morning.

We don’t do weather here.

We don’t know how.

The weather people on the news don’t handle it well either.

Yesterday I saw the new Channel 39 weather guy yelling into the camera, “THE SKY IS FALLING THE SKY IS FALLING!!!”

Uh…we call that….fog.

Oh we will get some rain.

Just a wisp.

Enough to turn the freeways into “demolition derby”.

Every time it rains you hear the following, “People in San Diego don’t know how to drive in the rain.”


Last time I checked everyone in San Diego had moved here from the east coast because it got “to freakin cold”.

So don’t blame us.

I was born and raised in San Diego.

There are only eleven native San Diegan’s left.

I’ve never shoveled snow.

I’ve never chipped ice off my windshield. (Although my wife’s sword would be perfect for it.)

Never salted a road.

I’ve only seen snow twice in my life. Once in a cherry snow cone at the zoo and once in a trip to hell at a place called “Big Bear”.

We went with my wife’s best friend and “people from her work.”

I now know those “people from her work” were the “others” from the television show “Lost.”

Eventually you reach the bottom of the mountain where you are told you have to put “chains” on your tires.

How the hell are you supposed to know how to do that?

The “forest ranger” who told us we had to have them gave us only one bit of advice, “Assure your vehicle cannot drive over you.”

Good thinking.

I used duct tape and a staple gun.

I didn’t want to get run over.

Here’s a little tip when driving with chains. Your car may not stop when you apply the brakes, which I personally believe will eventually create the sport of car skiing.

Look for other cars, log cabins, forest rangers and moose to carom off of so you can slow your vehicle down as you spin out of control.

When you do regain control you get to drive up the snow covered winding road of death.


So you can fly down a mountain on fiberglass sticks dressed like a paralyzed Eskimo?

The “people from her work” told me not to worry. There were all kinds of snow and all sorts of slopes.

All kinds of snow?

Apparently there’s powdery snow, icy snow, yellow snow, partially melted snow and heavy snow.

All sorts of slopes?

Apparently there are bunny slopes, bumpy slopes (Aka rocks, boulders and tree stumps) flat slopes, steep slopes and AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

To me…every slope is an AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

There’s a reason men my size shouldn’t snow ski.

It’s called gravity.

I’m either going to get down the mountain in 30 seconds on my face or seven hours scooting down the mountain six inches at a time on my butt.

On the bumpy slope.

Frost bite butt is not something you want to talk about.

My wife loved all this crap because we were in a big group and we were all going to stay in the cabin together and it would be an adventure and it was going to be so much fun and blah blah blah….

I just wanted a place to poop in private.

Where was I going to poop?

Sixteen of us including the “people from her work” in one cabin with one bathroom.

There’s no private pooping.

There’s no private anything.

It gets very cold at night which gives a large group; oh I don’t know, say sixteen people, the opportunity to all die together of carbon monoxide poisoning.

“More wood, more wood, throw on more wood.”

You didn’t warn us about that did you mister forest ranger?

Have you ever staggered outside wearing thermal underwear into 15 degree weather trying to get air? IT BURNS!!!!

Here’s another tip for you. Do not park your car on the road in front of your cabin. If you do the snow plow fairy will come by at night and peel the side of your car open like a cheap tin can.

At least it didn’t damage the chains.

And my last tip. Take the chains off when you get back down the mountain and get onto the freeway where there’s no snow.

I think ours flew off somewhere around Riverside.

That’s what the highway patrolman with the shattered windshield claimed anyway.

Have you ever had a train of thought that just stopped and said everybody off?

I think it’s this cold weather.

It’s in the low 70’s.