The man on the Hawthorne platform who is “Never Cold.”
Sir. I’m sure you’ve noticed, it’s 75 and sunny these days–a far cry from the brutal winter we just escaped from. People are barbecuing, hiking, playing ball.
But you, you probably don’t notice the 50 degree hike in the temperature. It can be the coldiest, blusteriest, Noreasteryesque of days, yet there you are, on the train platform, wearing a dress shirt and unbuttoned sport jacket.
You say hello to your friends on the platform, who inevitably ask you if you’re not freezing your ass off.
“I’m never cold,” you say with a smug smile, then explain how you only have to walk from the parking lot to the train, then a short hike from Grand Central to your office. “I don’t need a coat.”
You remind me, Never Cold, of a guy I sort of knew in college. His name was Stefan and he did some Grateful Dead show on the campus radio station. Everyone knew Stefan by his nickname, simply “Shorts,” because he wore nothing else but shorts throughout the New England winter. His legs were nothing to write home about–not that anyone at URHigh did much writing home anyway.
Perhaps you and Shorts are related; cut from the same warm weather, breathable cloth.
I haven’t seen you, Never Cold, since it got way warm. Maybe you’re the opposite of a Snowbird (a Sunbird?), flying north to Albany, to Toronto, to the Yukon Territory, to extend winter a few more weeks. If you’re comfortable in just a sport jacket in the dead of a Westchester winter, do you strip down to a mere dress shirt in early spring? Just a t-shirt with your slacks by Memorial Day? Bare-chested for the summer?
Time will tell, and we shall see.