In those days, of course, the winter wasn’t quite the same. You think you know what I’m going to say. “It was colder and wetter and harder.” But I don’t think that’s true. We were just smaller, so everything seemed worse, including the weather. When you went outside you never knew if you were going to make it, because you couldn’t believe how cold it was. And you hadn’t survived a dozen or a thousand times before. So, when you went out in your coat and scarf, they told you that you’d be warm enough, but you didn’t know for sure. I mean, Chrissakes, you were just this tiny little person with a bunch of clothes wrapped around you, how the hell did they know that you were going to be warm enough? That’s what I really mean about the winter being different.
Actually, though, I suppose that everything was different because of what you didn’t know yet. It’s called innocence, but I don’t think they know what it means. They think it means “good.” For me, it meant that I didn’t know if anything would work because I hadn’t tried it out. And unless you’re a dummy and you believe everything you hear, then you’re always plagued with doubts about things. That’s why little kids touch stoves. Just because some old person tells you that a thing is hot, doesn’t mean you’re going to believe them. Because you’re skeptical. And innocent.