Usually in January, it’s a matter of thermal underwear, tshirts, sweaters, and jackets. A couple days ago I got a call complaining that the heat hasn’t turned on. I called my super who replied “Yeah man, the heat doesn’t come on when it’s 60 degrees outside.” That makes sense, i thought. Today, at 70 degrees outside, my tshirt and uninsulated leather jacket got mighty toasty, and I was sweating even after I took it off.

One concern I had while i was sipping down a breve at a local coffee shop is now that our weather lacks the harshness that forges the strength of a New York character, will we all become a bunch of wussy California folk who pass around the frisbee and don’t smoke, drinking expensive coffee and don’t get mugged. Oh and we drive too. What a bunch of douchebags.