"Cold and chill, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever."
I just got back from the cemetery committal of a funeral I had this morning. It never fails that, at least once every winter, there's one of those cemetery services on a bitterly cold day. You know what kind of days those are by the telltale signs: First, you really don't walk on the grass as much as you walk on top of the grass (since the ground is so frozen that you don't sink into it). Second, your ears get so cold that they hurt. Third, the wind outside makes trying to manage the ritual book a challenge.
It gave me a whole new respect for the Giants, the Packers, and along with them, the fans who packed Lambeau and the rest of the people who had to work that game in the freezing cold (who gave new meaning to the words "working stiffs")
I know, "Cold and chill, bless the Lord", but, c'mon!!!!