Today was Saturday, so it was, by definition, a good day.
It was also a deceptive spring day. By that I mean, as long as you were looking at it through the windows, it seemed idyllic. Everything is green. Flowers are blooming. Birds are singing. There are butterflies. Bunnies were in the backyard eating a hundred dollars worth of daffodils and petunias.
But when you throw open the door and dash outside all prepared to burst into song while a bluebird alights on your shoulder, you suddenly realize that it is a mere 55 degrees outside (13 C) with a stiff northerly wind that is clocking in at about 30 MPH (48 KMH), making it feel like about 35 degrees (2 C).
This explained all of the odd looks I was getting for wearing a short sleeved shirt, cargo shorts, and flip-flops.
To further the deception, when I got into the car, the sun beaming in through all the windows heated it up like a mobile terrarium and so, yes, I had to turn on the air conditioner.
So I emerged from my car in the Target parking lot, mopping the sweat from my brow and drinking a glass of iced tea, while a cold northerly wind whistled through the many pockets of my cargo shorts. I struck a “Admiral Byrd at the North Pole” pose that was diminished somewhat by my “Life’s a Beach” T-shirt and the zinc on my nose.
All around me, people were bundled up like Eskimos in Uggs and faux fur wraps and puffy anoraks.
I think I was about one whispered cell phone call away from being bundled up into a white truck and hauled away to a top secret facility for the unseasonably attired.