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In defense of the brass monkeys

January 7, 2014

It’s 25° outside.


In Florida.

The app on my phone says that it feels like 14° outside.  Having been out there a couple of hours ago, I would agree.  It’s blasted cold.

One doesn’t expect to find these temps in Florida, but they do happen now and then.  Here in the part of Florida we affectionately refer to as “LA” (Lower Alabama), it frosts, freezes, and if you’re away from the coastal area, it even sometimes snows a little.

Unfortunately, I am not away from the coast.  I’ve lived in Florida for 17 years now and I’ve only once seen light flurries here.  This brings me sadness, because I truly love having all four traditional seasons.

Note:  Florida does have four seasons, contrary to popular belief.  In Florida the four seasons are:  1. Spring Break   2. Summer   3. Summer, the Sequel   4. Snow Birds.  You can’t really drive fast during any of these seasons, but for different reasons.  Jimmy Buffet may tell you that life is laid back here due to the excessive consumption of margaritas, but in truth it’s because the roads are packed and you might as well just chill out and go with the flow.

It would be no big deal at all if I lived in Colorado and I said it was 25° and/or snowing.  One expects to find such things in Colorado.   But it’s out of character for Florida weather, and as a result, everyone is pretty sure that hell is freezing over, because they can feel the chill from here.

We humans are a funny bunch.  We expect things to be a certain way, and when they’re not we holler and fuss.  But when they are, we holler and fuss because we’re bored, like little kids who pout in the middle of summer that “nothing good ever happens!”.  The truth is, we like to have our worlds shaken up a little.  We’re just afraid that the shaking might cause us some discomfort, and nobody likes discomfort.  We prefer to holler and fuss about things that have no potential to actually cause pain or distress.  It’s safer.

So tonight, from inside my warm house, dressed in my warm PJs with my warm booties, and with my warm mug of tea in hand, I offer you this fuss:

It’s cold outside.

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