Outback Time Machine

How do you know when cabin fever and the winter blues have taken control of your mind and daily routines? This week's photo gives me pause to discover that I find myself captivated by things that normally would seem trivial. I present my photo for this week as evidence of that point.

To overcome the winter blues, I have experimented with many things, such as instituting "Mandatory Fedora Fridays," performing daily inspections of frost-etched windows searching for the faces of former presidents, and placing supermarket coupons in the church pews instead of restocking them with those monotonous offering envelopes. Even the library book club, which initially seemed to help ease my boredom, has grown increasingly blasé. I crave those vibrant firsthand experiences that spring, summer, and fall offer so naturally.

So, this week I joined a car wash club. It seemed like the perfect way to get out of my house while still hiding from the extreme cold. Perhaps I could experience life at its edges from the cozy heated seats of my old Outback. I could achieve the necessary chore of cleaning a salt-encrusted car and also demonstrate my civic commitment to public safety by driving with crystal-clear windows. Upon entering the carwash for the first time, I was mesmerized by its spinning brushes, currents of churning foam, and bright flashing lights. It was like being in a rocket ship as it launches through the different layers of Earth's atmosphere. As my car glided through the wash, it produced a dreamlike sequence similar to a near-death experience, as it steadily proceeded down that narrow tunnel toward a distant glowing light.

It's curious how these seemingly mundane experiences take on an elevated status during the cold, dark, dreary days of January and February. While science recognizes cabin fever as a folk syndrome rather than a medical diagnosis, it has documented the mental boredom that causes the brain to crave any kind of engagement, making irrational behaviors and thoughts seem appealing just to break the monotony. Therefore, my plan for next weekend is to return to the carwash while listening to the Strawberry Alarm Clock bang out "Incense and Peppermints." How great will it be to drive through that rainbow of lava lamp colors and strobing lights to re-experience those mellow days of the 1960s?