Friday, December 10, 2010
Modern travel creates a strange dislocation in clothing when crossing the country.
Yesterday I was in New York and it was cold, really cold. My phone said 24 degrees (F), the radio said 19 degrees. My nose and the tips of my ears knew it was at least as low as 19, if not lower!
I layer up to go to my meetings - including the warm wool coat. Gloves. A scarf. Then, when ready to go home I hail a cab and hot foot to JFK. My stripping act then ensues. And as expected on the plane it's cold, then it's hot, then it's cold.
All normal. Except when I land in SFO I am in my final layer - a polo neck sweater. It is December 9 after all. Seems reasonable to me.
But the weather gets the last laugh. Driving home -- 11pm -- it's 61 degrees! I surrender and put on the air conditioning.