Afraid of the Dark Season

A few columns ago, I sang the praises of some of the lifestyle changes forced upon us by The Dark Season. I forgot a couple.

1. In the Dark Season, you can leave the butter out at all times, day or night, with no fear of impending rancidity. I don’t know if that’s a big deal for you, but for those of us who thrive on late-night snacks of buttered toast, this is a very positive transition. (Those of you who live in air-conditioned homes, where summer temperatures are always 72 degrees, will not be able to relate to the disaster that is the butter dish after just one afternoon in 87-degree temps.)

2. The Dark Season is the wonderful time of year when flies freeze. Often, they do so in mid-air (which may not be true, but it’s such a lovely visual). And if we are blessed by a truly nasty Darkness this year, the eggs of every Mormon cricket in the state will freeze harder than popsicles on Pluto.

3. The hot tub, which can be so easily ignored in August, is suddenly transformed into a source of real joy and pleasure during The Dark Months. In fact, most tub owners will tell you that their most quintessentially supercalifragilistic experiences in the Here and Now of winter take place in those few seconds when they lower and then nestle their bare buns into that blessed, 104-degree water.

4. The Dark Time is the Right Time to eat gravy. Who thinks about gravy on the Fourth of July? Indeed, the Dark Season is a terrific time to chow down on good ole American comfort food with the one you love. Gobs of it. Stuff like meatloaf, home fries, omelets and hot turkey sandwiches, all of them dreamily enhanced when absolutely pounded with gravy.


In the Nov. 11 issue of this here paper, D. Brian Burghart reviewed the lively new book by Deke Castleman titled Whale Hunt in the Desert. It’s the story of the modern-day Ahabs who run the glittering mega-resorts of Vegas, and how they devote much time, energy, and money to the wooing of the whales of the world, “whales” being the enormously wealthy men who love making enormous bets at the playgrounds of those fortunate enough to win their favor. It’s an entertaining and revealing read for anyone who wants to get a glimpse of not just the extremely rarefied air in which these wealthy whales roam, but also to anyone who wants to learn how Vegas became the beautiful, bodacious beast it’s become. Dec. 4, from 1 to 2 p.m., Castleman will sign copies of his book at Sundance Bookstore, and he’ll be joined by the star of Whales, a man who has repeatedly pushed the envelope of modern Vegas whale-hunting, superhost Steve Cyr.