Oct 042006
Authors: Geoff Johnson The Rocky Mountain Collegian

Seriously – do you know what I’m saying? This is wretched stuff, this wind. Always blowing and gusting – so smug – “I’m a force of nature,” it says.

You know wind chill?

Yeah, well I don’t know if you realize this: Wind does that. I just get so mad and I sit and stew about it alone in my room, quietly muttering.

Some of us try to make ourselves feel better about this affliction that plagues Fort Collins by saying (and this is unbearably funny when we do say it) “Ha, you know, the wind doesn’t blow in Colorado, ha, Wyoming sucks! Ha!”

Though our northward neighbor certainly does suck (I won’t back this up in depth – the suckiness – I feel I’m preaching to an audience well-versed in the area), speaking about it in such a hysterical way feels like a paltry, slipshod attempt at grass-is-greener feel-better-itude.

I don’t want to be able to laugh about the wind and say, “Oh well. The wind blows. What can you do?”

I think we should stop laughing it off and fight for what’s right.

I suggest we build for ourselves a sort of colossal room. We will build gigantic (effin’ huge – this is no joke) walls on all sides of Fort Collins. They must be at least four hundred feet tall (because I think I heard the wind blows even pretty high up). And there will be a roof (I wouldn’t rule out the wind blowing down, especially if we were to thwart it in this way).

And I know what you’re thinking: “Geoff! We would have no natural light!” Oh, my wrinkled-foreheaded friend, would you please just relax? Make yourself some chai, grab one of your many, many cats and sit it on your knee, and just listen for a bit. The walls would be made out of glass! The very same that protects the kind people staffing your local gas station!

And here’s another benefit to the giant room theory: the giant room would have a sort of greenhouse effect and would not allow as much moisture to escape. What’s that? What drought? Drought who? No, we would not slowly cook to death. No, it wouldn’t smell like a giant football locker room in the colossal room. It would be like a giant enclosed sunroom.

In the colossal room (better described, I feel, as “a perfect world”), you could even grow those things that you always wanted to, but couldn’t because of Colorado’s fickle climate – Limes! Mangos! Those smaller, yellow mangos! Pomegranates! Sphagnum peat?! Eh? Eh?!

Now that we’ve spent a little time together, I feel like I am getting to know the complex mysteries of which you are comprised. I can see it in your eyes: you’re scared of commitment. It’s a very common problem and I don’t judge, not unless you’re the wind. Maybe you’ve been hurt. Maybe someone you trusted disappointed you somewhere along the line. I’m sorry.

While we’re talking about your fear, however – and I’m saying this as your friend who cares about you and just wants you to be happy – there comes a time when you just have to throw caution to (the wind) and do what feels right. And not being constantly bullied by gusts and updrafts seems like it would feel right. Very, very right.

So come take a risk with me – in a large, stinking room – come with me.

Here’s how we pay for it: We spend the city’s entire budget on Powerball tickets and kill time waiting for the winning numbers to come in while doing a brewery tour at New Belgium.

Geoffrey Johnson is a senior English major. His column appears Tuesdays in the Collegian. Replies and feedback can be sent to letters@collegian.com.

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