He has either scored, or he is drunk.
There’s always been a tinge of jealousy in the back of my mind when I see pictures like the ones from Justin’s post on Wednesday about backyard rinks. I was raised in a land where winter was more of a myth than a seasonal reality. (I would be considered a “green” boy if George R.R. Martin took the time to attach adjectives to my self.)
No, the city I grew up in is the same one where I would pass by golfers and runners in short shorts on my way to Winter Olympic events. Vancouver actually had to cart in snow to the local mountains for freestyle skiing and snowboarding events. In the neighborhood I grew up, it was a rare occurence to see a snowman rather than a rink.
