Blanketing opinions that I'll probably regret soon.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

My discovery of a hidden sauna trumps the virgin birth of Jebus.

In the back of a basement in a subdivision outside Detroit, buried under a cobwebbed clutter of old telescope parts, broken outdoor window panes, and dusty wooden bed posts, lay a sauna that hadn't been used for 20 years until I unearthed it yesterday like some suburban archaeologist.

After I'd spent an hour hauling the junk to a far corner of my in-laws' basement and taken a wet rag to 20 year's worth of spider webs and grime, the clean sight of a functioning Finnish sauna was a beacon of shining perfection---surely more encouraging than the north star was to the Three Wise Men two thousand years ago.

And now I'm a sauna lizard, obsessed. Here's my cycle: take a shower; crank up the sauna rocks to 190 degrees fahrenheit; jump in for 30 minutes or until my body can't take the heat; take a freezing cold shower; drink a cold beer and eat a dry sausage; then repeat that process three times.

Finns think of saunas not as a luxury, but as a necessity, and now I see why. The feeling is the best natural high I've had, and even somewhat disorienting (in a good way). I've been coming to my in-laws' house for five years and never knew they had this room designed purely for relaxation. My world is changed.
Troy? Mt. Clemans? Inkster? Warren? Royal Oak? Sterling Heights? Livonia?
Whatcha doing for Sweetest's Day?
Your in-laws had no idea it was there?
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