by Terrence Aym

Created on: November 25, 2009

There are bad weather days, bad hair days, bad omen days and then there are just plain old "one of those days."

At the tender age of eight years I had never had "one of those days." If an adult had tried to explain it to me I really wouldn't have had a clue what they were trying to convey. You see, the concept behind "one of those days" is completely foreign to a normal, rational being - until the normal, rational being personally experiences one. Then all bets are off and another idiom is often learned - that idiom being "tearing your hair out."

The day was January 24th - a Tuesday - a school day. The signs that something might be amiss began almost as soon as I got out of bed. Looking back on it now from the perspective of some decades, I realize that getting out of that bed was my very first mistake.

At eight years old, however, on a school day there really isn't an option to stay in bed, unless, you're a great actor and can play act at being sick. In that case the day ends up being a sick day.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight to act my way back into a "sick" bed. Instead I performed my regular morning routine. When it was time for breakfast I happened to look out the window and noticed sleet falling and ice covering the trees, roofs, houses, cars and ground as far as I could see.

Had I been more aware, or thought about it some, seeing the ice storm would have stimulated some neurons somewhere within my foggy consciousness alerting me that the day just might not be a very auspicious one.

For breakfast I often had an egg, toast and cereal with juice. Since it was the middle of winter, my mother usually made oatmeal for us. That morning she discovered we were out of milk, the toaster burned the bread and the oatmeal was lumpy. As I said, all the warning signs were there for anyone with eyes to see. I however, was blind, as I had never experienced "one of those days."

My lesson was fast approaching.

Because the elementary school I attended was only five blocks from my house I walked to school. I took my kid brother with me. He attended first grade. My sister, age four and youngest brother age two stayed at home with my mother.

All too soon the time came to leave the warm, inviting sanctuary of my home and venture forth to face the worst that the Chicago suburban weather could throw at me on a mid-winter day in January. And Chicago has a lot of "worst" to throw around that time of the year.

Dressed like Inuits of the Arctic Circle we ventured forth.

My brother

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