Thursday morning when I drove to the Burbank Airport I wore a light short-sleeved shirt. With the window rolled down I enjoyed the warm Southern California winter morning. The temperature forecast for that day was in the low nineties. Always wanting to keep people in mild states of fear induced hysteria, the media had issued a red flag warning for brush fires.
Today the temperature in Central New Jersey was, with wind chill factored in, three below zero. The family dog finally agreed to allow doggie boots to be strapped onto his paws for a quick race outside. Frankly, he looks a lot cuter than most of the humans here with their odd ear covering flap caps, heavy coats, gloves, boots, scarves, and anything else that will provide protection from temperatures so cold that, as Thorton Wilder said in his play 'The Skin Of Our Teeth' even the dogs are sticking to the sidewalks. I've known that line from that play since high school. Today was the first time I got its meaning.
I only wish I had enough ridiculous winter garb to look foolish.
The family dog is better prepared for this sort of thing than am I.