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| http://www.rankinbass.com/ |
With the advent of the chilly season, comes a phenomenon felt area-wide: the cranking up of old radiators that generate steam heat throughout the buildings and town homes of our fair city. In my cheery 120 year old apartment, it comes in the form of a cast iron beast decorated with cherubs, the awakening of which brings the din of pops, bangs, clangs, and hisses, brought up from the basement through a series of pipes to the top floor where I live.
I devised a desperate counter-measure one year by asking for (and getting) as a Christmas gift, a lattice-topped stove top steamer that sits atop the radiator, releasing much-needed moisture back into the air. I highly recommend one; not only does it look nicer than a pot filled with water, it slowly evaporates as the radiator heats. You can also add potpourri, cinnamon sticks, vanilla, whatever, to release a scent at the same time. Clever, old school survival skills. I love this dragon steamer that breathes smoke: http://www.gascoals.com/Home/ACCESSORIES/KettlesSteamersTrivets.aspx
During my early college years, dwelling in the scenic hills of Oneonta, dorm life came with massive amounts of over heating, cotton mouth, and sore throats, thus sealing my distaste for dry heated rooms forever. I became accustomed to an open window and lower temperatures, which I was pleased to later confirm created more optimal sleeping conditions: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/04/health/04real.html. It was the start of long, cool, deep sleeps.
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| http://www.city-data.com/picfilesv/picv32226.php |
Naturally, my best friend and I warmly welcomed the gorgeous, snowy views from our dorm room window. To us, it was like living in a magical Christmas land. One night, as we watched the twinkling of stars and house lights on the distant hills, we told each other fables about Santa and the elves who might live there. "Look, there's Santa's workshop!" Clearly, it must be, who else but toy makers would be up this late at night? It was the beginning of one of the happiest time periods in my life, marked with the start of lifelong friendships, a first love, and the romance of cherished college studies. I felt like I had been set free.
With our overall giddiness and shared silly sense of humor, we sang old standards from Rankin-Bass. My bestie clearly had the better recollection of the lyrics. We giggled trying to fill in the blanks to those songs from a childhood that was not far off. We were still teenagers ( I was 17 at the start of our first semester ), living away from home for the first time, and on our own. While other kids struggled, we relished the freedom to live life on our own terms and solely for our benefit, because we had had serious family responsibilities from an early age. Our good spirits showed, because we quickly found a huge group of friends to share fun times with. One of our enduring favorites is the catchy song of the Heat Miser from The Year Without a Santa Claus. Like our stuffy room, it was too much.
It wasn't until years later I realized how deeply entrenched the character had become in pop culture. I noticed that guido's from the 'hood had adopted it as their signature hair style, like the kids from "Growing up Gotti" (glamorizing cultural cliches and NYC stereotypes...just great). Why? WHY?! WHYYYYY?!!!!
I see it as a joke the kids have to be in on. It's too ridiculous. Would you be able to have a serious conversation with a boy who looked like this, without bursting into laughter? Me and a friend started referring to the 'do in conversation as "The 'Growing Up Gotti' ", and being Brooklynites, we encountered many. But deep in my heart, I still think of it as The Heat Miser, with fond memories from college days. Welcome to the start of Christmas cheer!
