Global colding
The folks who coined the term “global warming” have realized their mistake (too late), and now say they should have said “global climate change.” I can attest to that. My birthplace in New Jersey has been buried under an avalanche of snow for weeks now, I have a friend in Washington DC wondering what all this white stuff is that has shut down the government, and another friend sent me an email last night with the repeated refrain “Have I said how sick I am of cold and snow?”
And then there’s me.
I’m writing this from the restaurant of a 5-star hotel in Boca Raton, FL, where, I assure you, I am freezing my ass off. It’s plenty cold outside, but it’s frigid inside. This hotel, which optimistic realtors might call “Miami Beach adjacent,” was not built for sub-60 weather. The glass corridors admit a regular breeze that would freeze the flippers off a penguin. My room is beautiful (actually, too beautiful — when I walked in and saw a two-story suite I tried to offer it to someone else in the party whom I thought more deserving). It’s also positively polar. As we took a break to regroup, I told my business partner I was heading to my igloo to order some blubber.
This is Florida. But it doesn’t seem like the Florida of our collective recollection.