Cold weather has finally arrived in New Orleans. We have gone from highs in the mid-80s to highs in the upper 60s.

I guess this October was the hottest on record. It seems incredible that just two days ago I was sitting around my house in my underwear, totally comfortable. It also seems a little unfair that we couldn’t have some highs in the 70s for a while. Now, I have to wear a sweater on the morning ride to work. I have to wear long pants. And it’s windy! When I went jogging this morning it was in the mid-50s and the wind made it extremely unpleasant. When my heart started pumping and my body temperature elevated, my ears burned painfully.

People always say, “But you’re from Indiana” — apparently their idea of the Great White North — “you should be used to cold weather.” I tell them I know colder weather than that; I lived for a year in Kalix, not far from the arctic circle. And what I know about cold weather is this: I hate it.

The paper ran a front page story this morning on how happy everyone is about this change in the weather. Bah! I know my definition of cold doesn’t match up with most people’s, but I don’t care. You’re all a bunch of hot-blooded, thick-skinned freaks.

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