By Ken Lass
There is an issue out there that continues to divide us, just as it has for centuries. You would think, in an enlightened society such as ours, we would have progressed past it by now, but it continues to flourish, separating families, friends and neighbors, creating a chasm between us that no one can seem to bridge.
Is it Race? Politics? Religion? Football team loyalties? Nah, it’s none of those things. It’s much more pervasive than that.
I’m talking about body temperature. Hot people versus cold people. And I’m just going to come right out and admit it. I am a cold person. I’m always cold. I am that guy, the one who ruins house parties by constantly whispering to everyone around him that it feels like a freezer in here. I’m not alone. There’s many of us among you. We won’t be silenced.
I’ve tried very hard to get along with hot people, to coexist, but you live in a different world. I’ve seen you at Civitan Park along the Trussville Riverwalk, strolling down the sidewalk during these frigid winter mornings, in your short sleeve T-shirts and your gym shorts. You smirk at me as I pass by in my parka, toboggan hat, woolen gloves and insulated underwear. Sure, I look like something that just walked out of an igloo, but that’s no reason to point and stare.
I’ve heard your muffled giggles in our restaurants, as you watch me complain to the hostess after I have been seated directly under an air vent. You probably classify eating establishments according to cuisine. Italian, Mexican, Chinese, American Grease. For me there are only two types: hot and cold. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to eat spaghetti wearing mittens?
Interestingly, it is not uncommon for hot people to marry cold people. The classic mixed marriage. I’ve never understood this. When young couples fall in love and consider marriage they discuss things such as, should we buy a house? When should we have children? Often ignoring the most important decision, which is, how will we set the thermostat?
Sharon and I are mostly in agreement on matters of climate but there have been a few glitches. I like to sit down on the main floor of our church during Sunday worship. She prefers the balcony where, I am convinced, it is at least ten degrees colder. So we compromise. We take turns sitting in a different area each week. This keeps peace in the family, but it also greatly hinders our ability to establish “our seats”. You know, that place in the pews most regulars have selected as their permanent home. Probably because the temperature there is just right. Now that’s an answer to prayer.
Cold people struggle to have an adequate social life. In addition to churches and restaurants, we fear grocery stores (especially the frozen food aisle), movie theaters, all waiting rooms, and any outdoor sports event played at night. You can easily pick us out in a crowd. We’re the ones with sniffly noses, constantly rubbing up and down our arms. We are generally a pain to put up with during these icy winter months.
Ah, but our time is coming. Soon it will be summer, bringing glorious warm temperatures and stifling humidity. Things will be different then. It will be the hot people doing the complaining. We will just be laying back, basking and reveling in the warmth and security of a bright July sun.
Until we have to enter a building, where we will immediately complain the air is turned up too high.