Monday, monday.

I am reminded of things I have read on various bathroom walls: here I sit all broken hearted, etc. Similar to trying to find something interesting to write about. But let's look at the Australian Prime Minister:

"If I were running Al Qaeda in Iraq, I would put a circle around March 2008 and be praying as many times as possible for a victory, not only for Obama but also for the Democrats," Howard said.

Obama noted that Australia has only 1,400 troops in Iraq.

"If he's ginned up to fight the good fight in Iraq, I would suggest that he calls up another 20,000 Australians and sends them to Iraq. Otherwise it's just a bunch of empty rhetoric," Obama said.

Well, how about that? Lemme see, Australia has a population of about ... the same as Rhode Island? Proportionately, I'd say the Aussies are pretty much putting their poop shooters on the line. Politically too, as regards the rest of the world hating Boosh so much. So Obama, even though Howard has insulted you, he has proved himself ... while all you have done is look good for the cameras. Got any real ideas about global security, or are you like the rest of the Democrats, great at jumping up and down pointing at the fiasco -- but completely devoid of practical ideas?

Next on the list:

Skiing ... basically a really stupid thing to do: (1) you start by putting on layer after layer of clothes until you feel and look like a polyester mummy; (2) you put boots on your feet that would give Mary Shelley nightmares; (3) you attach your feet to lengths of multi-layered fiberglass with devices designed to ensure that your feet come loose from said lengths; (3) you pay the equivalent of the monthly payment on the national debt of a largish third world country to purchase the right to seat yourself on a cold bench which wafts you (through bitter cold winds) to the top of a mountain; and then (4) you launch yourself down that mountain praying that you do not fall and break various pieces of your body. In fact, if you consider yourself sporting, you attempt progressively more difficult ways of getting down the mountain until probability will have its way and you succeed in doing yourself damage.

The reward is "apres ski" which should really be renamed "thank God I am in one piece, and why don't I go out and get blinding drunk to celebrate that" hour.

Last weekend it was -10F at the bottom of the lift. Probably -20 at the top, maybe -30. The place in question is just below Mount Washington, NH, one of the more extreme places on Earth for weather -- Google it, if you doubt me. -30 ... for you European readers is the same as -30C. That is REALLY cold. In fact, the skis don't run as they normally do because the thin layer of melted snow critical to the running of the ski doesn't form as it does in balmier temperatures, like 10F (-14C or so?). Your skis act more like velcro. Where am I going with this? Wait.

Last weekend, I saw huge groups of English school kids who are on ski vacations in New Hampshire. Perhaps the name "New Hampshire" made them think that it would be like a hilly and snowy "Hampshire," a county in England. Anyway, I never saw a more poorly equipped group of teens in my life: maybe their ski clothing would be adequate for the French Alps, maybe Avimore in Scotland ... but ... maybe they noticed that the locals did not have a single square inch (or even millimeter) of skin showing. Maybe they noticed that NOBODY wears those smart mirrored sunglasses. Maybe they noticed that nobody with a season's pass wears "thick woolen hats," rather they have neoprene face masks, fleece lined neck gaiters and full head helmets?

I stopped and just stared -- those rosy English faces with complexions of cream, never having seen raw sun, bitter cold or other weathering agents. Nor frostbite, apparently. I feel someone should send their parents a letter before they come: BEWARE -- this is not some namby-pamby Euro-luxe resort you are sending your kids to ... it is bitter Siberian-like cold without cushy perks that you may have seen in your issues of Tattler. I notice that their parents don't come, they just send their kids on a cheap (for Europeans given the dollar is officially worth less than camel poop) ski vacation, and probably head off to Courchevel or Gstaad in the meanwhile for their own little "break."

As I have seen this before, invariably, by the end of the week the local merchants have fattened their cash registers and the Brit-kids are indistinguishable from locals -- helmets, face masks, gloves with liners, lots of fleece, no woolen "jumpers", good goggles, and slightly maniacal grins on their faces when they come into the lodge. They will have some stories to tell their Euro-weenie friends ... cold, huh? You think you know cold? Lissen, mate, you have no idea what cold is! Cold is where tears freeze on your face, and where two runs down the mountain can give you frostbite. Cold is where you don't touch exposed metal. And from then on a little ice on the piste won't bother them either, and there will be no such thing as challenging conditions.

They will also probably come back to New Hampshire because everything is so ridiculously cheap. Jeans are still $29.95 at the outlets!!

Speaking of which ... reading the Times of London, I glanced at an article on ski clothing. The author breezily wrote of paying Stg. 395 on a ski jacket, Stg. 200 on some stretch pants, etc. Maybe it would be better if their kids just brought back some U.S. ski gear -- it might save them 50-60% on their equipment. But I forget the Euro passion for labels ... its gotta be D&G or Bogner for style, or some obscure Austrian/Swiss make if it is any good. Right.