FROZEN IN FLORIDA

So it's November -- and yes, pretty close to what is called the winter season. Everybody is busy eating dead turkeys and festooning dead trees in their living rooms. Okay, I suppose eating live turkeys isn't likely. Work with me.

I've digressed.

Take a look at the photo from my phone -- 52 degrees.  It is from this morning.

52 degrees is a relatively mild temperature in the New England region where I've spent a chunk of my life. Were it thus this morning most folks would be running around in flip flops and wearing shorts. I should say they would be acting a little crazy as well.

Not so in Miami. 

This morning people at the bus stops and walking the streets of this tropical city were festooned even more than the Christmas trees. They wore hats, gloves, mittens, scarves and in the case of one truly frigid soul -- a puffy, presumably feather filled coat. Everyone was chatting about it -- and it was all I could do to yell out "It's 52 degrees, people! Get over it." Okay, they were also acting crazy much the same way New Englanders would have should the weather be balmy this time of year.

52 degrees. 52 degrees. 52 degrees. It's all realative, I suppose.

Meanwhile for a series of reasons too lengthy to go into here -- my winter outerwear (including a puffy coat) is in a closet in Tampa. Not easily accessible. But I never imagined that I might be looking to put it on in November in sunny Miami.

Frozen in Florida. 

Amen, and pass the mustard.