42 Degrees

I walk from my house to the train and from the train station downtown to my office.  Three plus miles a day.  It’s fine in the summer and shoulder seasons but the winter is something else.  I do not like the cold. But the cold doesn’t really bother me.  Unless there’s wind. . . .

Up until about ten years ago, my threshold temperature was 42 degrees. Over 42 degrees and – if I was wearing a suit or sport coat – I would wear no overcoat or trenchcoat. Under 42 degrees, I wore a trenchcoat.  One winter, I went all the way through wearing nothing but a trenchcoat. Wait a sec – let me rephrase that. I wore a trenchcoat AND a suit, shirt, belt, tie, socks, shoes and my Jockey Juniors.  These days, as age inches upward, my threshold temperature is more like 50 degrees.  Or more.  Even when it’s over 50 degress, I sometimes bundle up like Admiral Byrd.   When it hits 80 degrees, I’m just ducky.    I still don’t like the cold but it’s not bothering me less and less. . . .  

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One thought on “42 Degrees

  1. peter lodato

    your great great uncle walter larson was 84 when he left this world and he never owned a winter coat he told me it was the viking blood that ran thru his danish veins that kept him warm he just wore a sports coat long johns under his pants and shirt and a top hat to cover his head you will do just fine in the coming years scott best cousin peter

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