“My life’s a musical comedy, I’m singing every day. Each evening’s a performance, each noon’s a matinee. The plot is never boring for there’s never a repeat—I play a different role for every person that I meet.” I still remember the lyrics (but not a whole lot more) from the Off Broadway revue that I sang way back (cue harp glissando) in 1974. Although my memory is a bit fuzzy, I’m fairly sure that I was brilliant. At the time, I had no doubt that the show—“I’ll Die if I Can’t Live Forever”—was going to make me a star, and we all know how that worked out. Checking my facts, I couldn’t help but notice that even the Internet (www.broadwayworld.com) has decided not to credit the folks who wrote the thing, probably at their request. I also read that the show featured more than 30 musical numbers, although the other 29 seem to have slipped my mind. Still, I’ve hummed that “memorable” tune over the years, and the last few days were no exception.

With one eye on the mercury, and another on the news, I marveled at the fluctuations. Minus one-minus 13-minus 28. Even though I keep vigil on my pipes and a constant drip (I’ve been called worse!) in the sink, they froze. “Beware the unexpected cold snap,” the Internet (www.about.com) warned. “Frozen pipes are a serious risk during very cold winter weather and the pressure from a frozen pipe can exert over two thousand pounds per square inch—enough to rupture any pipe.” Well, duh.

Hours later, the dog whined to go out. Hat, gloves, coat, scarf and boots (my mantra) donned, we ventured forth and as I watched in horror, she took off after a family of deer. Cajoling, I begged her to come in, but a dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do, and as one lone tear trickled down my cheek, it froze. Unable to start the truck, I chuckled and cancelled all of my plans (ice fishing? I don’t think so), wondering what I could freeze outside. As one of my action figures (you’re never too old to play with dolls) beckoned, I filled a Tupperware bowl with warm water, tossed it in, and dug up some food coloring, deciding to “invent” tie-dyed ice on the side. Hours later, the dog whined to go out. Hat, gloves, coat, scarf and boots. Dipping my glove into the vat of multi-colored slush, I monitored my brilliance, opened the door and laughed again. Instantly, my hand had frozen to the metal knob and I had to pry it off, leaving the glove along with a bit of skin.

Thinking I had better get some work done before the dog had to go out again, I sat at my desk for hours being brilliant (IMHO), as usual. In my infinite wisdom, I had a portable heater at my feet, one under the sink and every light in the office burning brightly. So it should have come as no surprise when I blew a fuse, but I was momentarily stunned, nonetheless, when the computer monitor blinked out. Resigned to starting over, I sighed when the dog pawed at me. Hat, gloves, coat, scarf and boots. After the reboot, a fresh, even more brilliant literary masterpiece flew from my fingers as I typed away, marveling at my cleverness, just before the room went dark again. With no electricity (no phone, no lights, no motorcar!) I picked up the cell and dialed my service provider. “There has been an outage reported in your area,” the electronic voice whispered in my ear “affecting one customer. Expect delays up to six hours for the problem to be resolved.” Surmising that I was the “one customer” that the robot-lady referred to, I went out to investigate with the dog. Hat, gloves, coat… you get the idea.

Turns out, the icy roads had caused a motorist to skid and hit the transformer providing power to my residence alone. “My life’s a musical comedy,” I sang, skipping back to the house, prying the dead skin off the knob and tossing it into the Tupperware bowl, now destroyed, along with the frozen doll, er…action figure. Slipping, I twisted my ankle and laughed as the pup chased a squirrel. La-la-la- la-la. Taking photos of my handiwork, I went back to my desk, resigned to the fact that my column this week might be slightly sub-par, but rejoicing in the weather report, slated to bring us warmer temps, along with icy roads, ensuring that I might even break a leg while walking the dog, minus a layer or two. Hat, gloves, coat, scarf and boots—how may I direct your call?