Operative BJ writes in with alarming news:

Hey, you in the chair!

Operative BJ is happy to have you and you and you pay for him to enjoy his 8-week tanning treatment through your tax dollars. And no, Operative BJ looks nothing like this, but if we put a real picture of him in his skivvies tanning like this, people would think this was one of the ‘Puter gross-out posts. The horror. The horror.

Oh, my Czar, I apologize profusely for my outburst. It’s just that I seem to be suffering from multiple psychological syndromes simultaneously and am not responsible for my actions. Or, at least, so I am told by experts in the psychology indus… er, profession.

I apparently have SAD – Seasonal Affective Disorder. I am told that is the reason I am depressed. I wasn’t aware I was depressed. I just wonder why, after living almost all my life in the Northeast, dealing with snow as long as I can remember, driving through blizzards before I had all-wheel drive cars, and wearing sweatshirts and long johns to bed, why all of a sudden am I suffering a syndrome? Why, after all these years, have I been diagnosed with depression? I don’t feel depressed, but the experts are telling me that I am depressed. Should I be depressed?

Or, I may have “snow rage”, another syndrome brought about by all things “snow-related”: the anger at having to either shovel my driveway, or run the snow thrower to clean my driveway, or the anger at having to re-shovel the end of my driveway after the city plow fills it in again, or having to drive slowly on a snow-covered road, or having to stop and clean the snow off my wipers so I can see again. I was never angry about this before. I’m not angry about it now. I always thought that snow in February was normal weather. Should I be angry about normal weather?

Perhaps I have “cabin fever” from being captive in my home during the winter. It’s too cold to go out in shorts, sandals, and shirtsleeves as I want to, I need to stay in the house to stay warm, and I can’t do anything that I could do during the summer: ride my bike, weed the herb garden (no, basil, cilantro, oregano, etc), grill burgers, or walk to the park. But I don’t feel feverish. I just took my temperature using one of those infrared laser-guided Harbor Freight long-range thermometers, and – aside from the CO and sulfur dioxide the thingy seems to be detecting – I feel fine.

Now, your majesty, it isn’t like I haven’t been through this many times before. It isn’t like I haven’t lived in the Northeast most of my life (born in NYC, thru high school in northern NJ, time in the service in ME, and now living in a state directly adjoining ME). It isn’t like this is my first winter, my first snowstorm, or my first time driving in snow. But I listen to the weather guessers on TV and they’re all talking about some kind of “-geddon”: snow-ma-geddon, ice-ma-geddon, cold-air-ma-geddon — some kind of unusual disaster that doesn’t occur except for every winter.

So, along with this unusual snowstorm in February, I discover that I have been suffering multiple psychological mental-affective syndromes all these years, syndromes that I have apparently not been properly treated for. I was under the impression that occasional self-medication with Mr. Daniel’s miracle elixir was all the treatment one needed for occasional relief from the “woes of winter”. But now, I discover I was mistaken: I indeed need professional help.

Great Czar! Is Obamacare coverage available for “SAD”, “snow rage”, “cabin fever” and other winter-borne affective mental disorders? Or am I on my own?

Your faithful – although, according to the experts, mentally unfit to survive winter – minion.

Well, nice knowing you. Actually, you will be just fine—but if you wanted a government program to pay you to stay home, you’re lucky Obama is president.

Fortunately, the PPACA does appear to cover SAD, and indeed is one of the drivers behind the Indoor Tanning Services Tax. Indoor tanning, by the way, is one of the treatments for SAD and because SAD is recognized by the American Psychiatric Association as something deemed real (like a trillion dollars, although no one can ever see or touch or perceive it), the whole shebang is covered.

Isn’t that great? So get an Obamacare-friendly doctor to write you a prescription for tanning treatments at the nearest salon. Although, admittedly, good luck finding a doctor that will back you on Obamacare.

The Czar of Muscovy

Божію Поспѣшествующею Милостію Мы, Дима Грозный Императоръ и Самодержецъ Всероссiйскiй, цѣсарь Московскiй. The Czar was born in the steppes of Russia in 1267, and was cheated out of total control of all Russia upon the death of Boris Mikhailovich, who replaced Alexander Yaroslav Nevsky in 1263. However, in 1283, our Czar was passed over due to a clerical error and the rule of all Russia went to his second cousin Daniil (Даниил Александрович), whom Czar still resents. As a half-hearted apology, the Czar was awarded control over Muscovy, inconveniently located 5,000 miles away just outside Chicago. He now spends his time seething about this and writing about other stuff that bothers him.