Floridians are an odd bunch, indeed. Most people have come from other places. I, however, am a native. Born in what is now Johnson and Wales University (it was a hospital in the old days) I got my thin blood and wimpiness the old fashioned way – I was born with it. You see, when a baby is born anywhere south of Orlando, even in December, they don’t go home in a warm blanket and cap, but rather a tiny tank top and toe-less booties.
An article in the Key West Citizen recently talked about how you can tell when people moved to Key West. It is by their winter clothes. You see, when people move to Florida they stop spending money on winter clothes and start spending it on sunscreen. So, if you moved here in the 80s, chances are you have some neon pink sweaters. The 70s, well, flannel bell bottoms weren’t even fashionable then.
This week has brought record lows, which to the wimps of Florida is pretty tragic. People go out wearing all of their clothes – at once. On the mainland, most houses have central air conditioning, which means they also have heat. In my little slice of Key West paradise, which I bought when it was roughly 150 degrees out, has window air conditioning units. They cool beautifully. Even in the summer, it takes only a short while for the apartment to cool down. However, as I type this, wearing jeans, a turtleneck and fleece, I am sad to say that I have no gloves here. My fingers are frozen. I am suffering so that you, my dear reader can (a) commiserate if you are anywhere except Tahiti and (b) laugh at my wimpiness as often happens.
Here’s hoping it warms up before the onslaught of northerners seeking warmth show up every weekend for the foreseeable future.
