January 22: Mother Nature, Horwitz, Saint Timothy

..."Listen," he said.  "If you was a fish, Mother Nature'd take care of you, wouldn't she?  Right?  You don't think them fish just die when it gets to be winter, do ya?"

This little tidbit of wisdom comes from a cabdriver named Horwitz.  Holden asks Horwitz about the fate of the ducks in the lagoon in Central Park, and Horwitz replies with the story of the fish frozen solid in the water all winter long, absorbing nutrition through their open pores.  Mother Nature takes care of her children, according to the cabbie.

Speaking of winter and cold, it is frigid to the point of dangerous today in the Upper Peninsula.  All the schools are closed, including the university.  The wind chill this morning was -31 degrees.  Mother Nature might take care of her children, but she has the air conditioning set on high today.  Driving into work was pretty lonely.  There were only two or three other cars on the road.

Yes, I did go to work, despite a few trips to the bathroom last night.  I am feeling much better on this frozen Tuesday.  Mother Nature is taking care of me, or Saint Timothy.  Timothy's feast day is January 26, and he is the patron saint against stomach disorders.  Most of the information about Timothy is related to the Apostle Paul.  Timothy was a follower of Paul.  The Apostle sent the young man on many "difficult, confidential missions."  When Paul was thrown into prison in Rome, Timothy was with him.  Eventually, Timothy became the Bishop of Ephesus and was martyred in the winter of the year 97.

My book doesn't say why Timothy is the patron against stomach disorders, but Google gave me this answer:  "It may well be that Timothy had stomach ulcers or simply a weak stomach, and wine was considered to be a soothing remedy."  In a letter, Paul suggested that Timothy drink wine for his poor digestion.  (Paul sort of reminds me of Horwitz, dispensing wisdom to the young Timothy, no matter how misguided it is.)  Whatever the reason for Timothy's title, I could have used his help yesterday.  I spent so much time on the toilet that I think my ass is permanently shaped like an oval.  Even this morning, my stomach was not cooperating with me.  I had crackers and cheese for breakfast.  I had the same for lunch.  Things seem to be settling down now, thank God or Timothy or Mother Nature.

Maybe Saint Marty should pick up some wine for his next upset stomach.

Does he look old enough to drink?