The Coldest Winter I Ever Spent...

Mark Twain is supposed to have said,"The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco," and frankly I'd really like it better if he had. Unfrortunately, according to these guys its one of those statements that he never actually made. That annoying little fact screws up the whole premise of my post, but if one has to be rigid about these things what's the point of blogging!? If someone is going to edit me (especially someone I don't even know) then I'd be publishing this stuff in the "real" world and getting paid for it.

SO... I'm not going to let a little fact like the claim that Mark Twain didn't make the statement interupt my train of thought (at least not much). The fact of the matter is that WHOEVER said it, whether it was ol' Sam or some lesser known person, they never had the benefit of air conditioning in August in the South, for the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer indoors in New Orleans! Yeah, it's screaming hot outside and as soon as you step out the door and into the air your body breaks out into a spontaneous sweat, but wherever you go and whatever you do, as soon as you step indoors your are blasted with 60 degree refrigerated air pumping from central vents and window air conditioners with ubiquitous ceiling fans pushing the cold air down toward the floor and setting up whirlwinds of polar blizzards that twist around your shoulders and whip around your ankles. These flurries equal any wind I have encountered rolling down the canyons of San Francisco's business district or blasting in off the coast at Ocean Beach... well, almost.

By the way... evidently, Mr. Clemons DID make a similar statement about Paris which puts him right in line with the Franco-haters of the modern era who renamed French Fries so they wouldn't have to stop eating them, and set their tongues to wagging about the "cheese eating surrender monkeys"(and you KNOW who you are!) when Chirac didn't just fall in line with Dubya's Imperial March to Baghdad.