RIVER CITY JOURNAL: A DAY WITHOUT SUNSHINE IS LIKE ... WELL, A GLOOMY DAY

I don't know about you, but I could stand a batch of days so bright it hurts to keep your eyes open.

There ought to be some perky things you could say about the string of cloudy days we've been having in these parts. I tend to look for silver linings. I really do. But I must say that the gray skies are starting to tarnish, in my estimation.

Much has been said and written about how the lack of sunshine affects our minds. There is even a name for it: seasonal affective disorder. I'm no doctor, but I think everyone gets gloomy when it stays cloudy for so long. Gloomy is not a precise medical term, but I think you understand what I'm saying.

(Doctors are known to resort to real-life language from time to time. The last time I visited a doctor for my annual physical, I resisted his advice to get a flu shot. Even though I finally submitted, I'm pretty sure he wrote "huffy" in my medical chart. I'm not certain, however, since I was reading a doctor's handwriting upside-down from across an examining room without my glasses -- not ideal conditions for precision snooping.)

Folks who spend their lives -- and as many government grants as they can get -- on research say that regions of the world where it is cloudy for extended periods of time have a high incidence of mental and behavioral disorders.

Our older son has been involved in some research on how light -- or the lack of it -- affects our mood. His studies, like many others, showed that doses of bright light can be administered much like a prescription drug. This would be like my doctor saying, "Joe, I'm prescribing an hour of bright light three times a week until the sun shines again." Honest, that's the way it works.

As a matter of fact, our son was featured in one of the Boston newspaper's health sections. The story had a photo that showed him sitting in front of a contraption the size of a picture window that was bathing him in intense light. The story reported the research that showed doses of this artificial light could prevent disorders resulting from days without sunshine.

I told our son how impressed I was and asked how much a good light box would cost. He snickered and said you could buy one for several thousand dollars -- or you can put one together for under $30 with light fixtures, lumber and screws available from just about any discount store. He ought to know. That's how he built the amazing gizmo in the newspaper photo.

My wife and I have been frequenting the Oregon Coast during vacations since 1972. In recent years, we've made it to our favorite seaside village almost every sunny June. We've often said we'd like to wind up there someday, perhaps when we retire. But we also realize we've never been to the Oregon coast in the winter, when the sun rarely shines at all, we're told. We've often wondered how we would fare through several months of cloudy days.

Now we know.

And we didn't even have to leave Southeast Missouri to find out.

By my reckoning, we have had two good days of sunshine since the beginning of November. I read somewhere that November was the cloudiest month on record.

Oh, sure, we keep getting teased with rays of sunshine here and balmy temperatures there. Golfers are more confused than tulip bulbs right now, trying to figure out if they can make it to the golf course before the next deluge.

Quite frankly, I can tell you I've had enough of the clouds. I'm about ready to head to the Oregon coast for a little relief. The weather maps keep showing sunshine in the land where the sun isn't supposed to shine until next spring.

By the way, remember how I said I keep looking for the silver lining? Maybe this is it: By my highly unscientific calculations, the moisture we've had since November in the form of rain and fog is the equivalent of seven feet of snow, not counting drifts.

So far I haven't had to use my snow shovel at all.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.