Song Parody: Stop the Snow

  I posted this a few years ago, but it's about winter generally, which makes it an evergreen. So to speak. The funny thing is, within days of me deciding to rerun it, the snow started melting away. I should write a song about freezing rain, or fog.

I hate winter. Well, only if I have to go out in it, or pay for heating the house, or if it’s winter. Otherwise I don’t mind. Anyway, parody songs are only good if you’re familiar with the original, which in this case is “Let It Go” from Frozen. If you have kids of a certain age, you’ve not only heard it, you’re sick of it. (I’m not–but my kids are all grown up, and I’ve only seen the movie once.) If you haven’t heard it, here’s the song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QnN6glKaWdE

Or see the original lyrics here: 

https://genius.com/Idina-menzel-let-it-go-lyrics

 

I know what you’re thinking: “Why, Mark? Why?” Good question—I don’t even find it easy. But I present you with: “Stop the Snow”.

 
 
But ... I'm so cool!
 
 
 

The snow’s piled high almost to my thigh
It’s so cold I want to scream
No sign of spring salvation
I’m stuck in a snow globe dream

The wind howls through windows, bringing swirling snow inside
Couldn’t keep it out, plastic sheets I tried

Let the dog in, his frozen pee
Is an icicle I never want to see
My hands can’t feel—this weather blows
Thanks to the snow

Stop the snow, stop the snow
Can’t get my car unstuck
If I had enough dough
I’d move away from all this yuck
I know just what the forecasts say
Get your storm rage on
I’m stuck in my drive anyway.

It’s funny how this temperature
makes everything seem blue
And if you don’t see the misery
there’s something wrong with you.

It’s time to go and break the ice
To start the car, oh please play nice
No lights, no juice, not to be rude
I’m screwed


Stop the snow, stop the snow
Just one day when it’s warm and dry
Car won’t go in the snow
Ice falls down from tears I cry
Here I push in four foot drifts
Till my hands freeze on …

A patch of ice takes me to the ground
Underneath the snow it’s all cold, dead and brown
And one thought penetrates my frozen brain
Summer’s not so bad—I don’t mind the rain

Stop the snow, stop the snow
My car’s buried in five foot drifts
I can’t feel, my own toes
I’ll never make it to my shift
My hands are blue and my face is white
I could use a lift
But the snow plow buries and passes by.

 
 
 
Remember: Music makes the heart grow fonder, but reading builds the brain.
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Buy Your Lady a Book For Valentine's Day. Or buy her nothing ... and suffer

My annual Valentine's Day book promotion also serves as a reminder to all you men that, yes, Valentine's Day comes every year.
 

As we approach the big Sports Bowl weekend, many men have trouble thinking of other things. If they thought really hard, they might remember Valentine's Day is coming up, and plan ahead for a special dinner, flowers, flowery dinners, and/or chocolate flowers at dinner.

But probably not.

Because they're men. So, for those of you totally ignorant of the fact that Valentine’s Day is an annual affair, the humor anthology My Funny Valentine is available in print and e-book. (I have a few copies on hand.) It's an anthology of humor pieces ... about Valentine's Day. It was really easy to title. (Note: One of the humor pieces is mine, but I would have come up with a lamer title.)
 
 

Maybe your loved one is allergic to flowers and chocolate, and how sad is that? Buy her a book. Women who read love books. So do men who read, but it's not so hard to shop for men ... or, to put it another way, women are better shoppers.

If your loved one has an e-reader, the Kindle version is just $2.99. If they don’t have one, don’t be cheap—buy them one. They'll know if you're cheap. Or, you could get the print version for $9.95 at Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/My-Funny-Valentine-MyFunnyBooks-Writers-ebook/dp/B006JROL8K
 

 
I’d advise against getting them the book for the second or third year in a row, though—they’d certainly notice. But I suppose in that case you could go over to http://www.markrhunter.com/ (or Amazon, or Barnes and Noble, etc.) and grab one of my romantic comedies for the loving one you love.
 

 

Remember, when you forget to give your Valentine a gift, Cupids cry.



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Covid Keeps Quarantines Coming

  I'm not even sure how to start when it comes to Covid. As a writer I'm a professional smart-ass, but with this I got my ass kicked, and didn't feel too smart about it.

Illness or injury traditionally accompany our vacations: Last December Emily and I came down with the flu when we were supposed to visit her family and friends in Missouri. This year we decided to head down on a Thursday.

On Wednesday we started to feel a little ... off. By Thursday morning we had to call it--we couldn't risk giving her father whatever bug was now traveling with us. It wasn't until Friday night that we began to suspect the modern medical boogieman, Covid. We missed the trip, we missed Saturday's Holiday Pops concert, and I felt so bad I couldn't even write. By the time it was done I had to contact my editor at History Press to push back our deadline for the Haunted Noble County book, because I'd planned to use half of my vacation to work on it.

The only question left: Could I turn it into a funny blog?

It doesn't LOOK like 102 degrees.

 No. No, I could not.

The only thing we did was marathon the TV show The Expanse, and unsuccessfully try to listen to Good Omens on audiobook. (We kept having to go back when one or another of us fell asleep.)

You know, watching TV and reading books wouldn't be such a bad vacation. The problem is that for the first couple of days we were unable to enjoy anything, and in fact we were too sick to sleep. You heard that right. Over that first weekend I, who can't function on less than eight hours of sleep, stayed awake for twenty-fours straight. Even Nyquil wouldn't put me out.

Then, for a week after that, we were too sick to stay awake. That was the period during which we kept having to go back and decide what we remembered last from the audiobook.

"It was Agnes Nutter and the book, wasn't it?"

"No, it was Adam and the Them meeting the dog."

(We were both wrong: It was Crowley terrifying his house plants.)

I took this photo of Emily at the same time the one above of me was taken. She's in there, I swear.

 

 Part of it--let's face it--is that I'm no spring chicken pox. When I was in my early 20's I once rode the back step of a fire engine to a mobile home fire on the edge of town--while running a fever.

This truck, specifically. What an awesome truck.

 A couple of years later I rode a different engine to Kendallville, to a tire fire so big it could have been seen from the International Space Station, if there'd been one at the time. I was coughing up junk that looked like it belonged in an alien invasion horror movie, despite never getting into the smoke. Yet there I went, for twelve hours. Our Chief later ordered me to go home and go the hell to bed.

 No more.

 It's not just that Covid is bad. My normal temperature runs around 97.6, and by the time it hit 100 not only could I not go to a fire, I couldn't pick up the TV remote. (Thus the marathon of one show.) It reached 102 at one point. My skin kept trying to crawl away to somewhere cooler, or so it felt.

Emily was running about a day behind me, so I had the pain of knowing what she was about to go through. She's still got a terrible cough weeks later, while mine is just awful. We were like the grandparents in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, just laying there in a lump. Christmas preparations? Hah! We'd bought a new, pre-lit tree, but we never even got a chance to fluff out the branches, let alone decorate it.

I kinda like it like this, though. Yes, it's black.


I was so sick--brace yourself for this--I lost my appetite.

I can count on one hand the number of times I've completely lost my appetite, and I was in the hospital for most of those. I dropped six pounds. This is not a recommended diet.

The moral of this story is, of course, don't get Covid. We didn't mind at all being quarantined, at least not until the chocolate ran out. (Everything tasted salty or metallic, except chocolate.) Other people in this area passed away from it, so we count ourselves lucky now that we're feeling 50% better.

Yeah, I'm exhausted all the time, but I work nights--I was already halfway there, anyway.


 

Remember, books aren't effective as masks, but they're great for quarantine.


 

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