Gauging the end of winter by the retail outlet displays

It’s official – winter is over. This may come as a shock to those of you with a foot of dirty snow still lurking in your driveway like a rotten tooth in need of pulling. But it’s true. Winter is over.

How do I know this? I can read the signs.

Remember back in early July, when the stores put out their Back to School displays? Then came August, when the Halloween and Thanksgiving stuff went up. And who can forget September; the official start of the retail “Christmas Season?”

Well, it’s happening again, but unlike all the aforementioned rushed seasons, this time around I don’t mind.

I went grocery shopping last Sunday with The Lovely Mrs. Taylor, and – according to the store shelves – summer is not only “just around the corner,” it has arrived.

Gone are the gloves, mittens, hats, coats, sidewalk salt, shovels, windshield brushes, woolen socks and portable heaters.

In their place are tiki torches, cans of bug repellent, backyard water slides, pink plastic flamingoes, patio furniture, big yellow boxes of sidewalk chalk, and – the Holy Grail of summertime purchases – barbecue grills.

Oh lordy, I do love barbecue grills.

I hate shopping more than the president of Marilyn Manson’s Fan Club hates polka music, but I could spend all day checking out barbecue grills and never get bored.

In fact, that’s exactly what I tried to do this past Sunday, before Mrs. Taylor’s incessant sleeve pulling and pitiable whining parted me from my beloved outdoor department.

Oh, I don’t need a new grill. I bought a new one last summer and I’ve taken very good care of it. It’s a humble little thing, ideally suited for Mrs. T and me. There’s no reason to even think about replacing it.

Still, it’s hard not to dream, especially this time of year. There are just so many grilling options out there; it’s mind boggling.

When I was a kid (back before electricity, running water or parenthetical asides) backyard grills came in two varieties – cheap metal saucers that gave about two years service before rusting away to nothing, and beautiful, brick monstrosities built by homeowners who had no intention of moving again, ever. Both types were powered by charcoal or wood and could either cook to perfection, or incinerate, depending on who was sitting in the driver’s seat.

The grills I saw Sunday were astounding extrapolations on those antediluvian devices, monuments to the masculine yearning to scorch meat over an open fire, as did our Neolithic forebears. Charcoal, wood, propane, natural gas; all were viable and available fuel options. I didn’t see any units powered by nuclear fuel cells, but it’s only a matter of time.

One grill in particular caught my eye; a colossal, stainless steel monolith with four side burners, a detachable counter top, and a small vegetable sink built in. The available cooking space was listed in square feet instead of inches. I almost wept. Mrs. Taylor kept pointing to the price tag, but I was having none of that.

Summer, after all, is here. And a man must dream.


Missed a week? More “Reality Check” online at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com or www.milive.com. E-mail Mike Taylor at mtaylor325@gmail.com.