Posted by Ron Coleman on May 21, 2008
It’s a down-time moment for me here in Miami, where I am representing a client in a mediation session over a copyright claim. Or several. Quite a nice view from the conference room, but I’d rather be on this side of the glass — it is monstrously hot, even though it’s still only May; yesterday was evidently a record 97 degrees.
Of course when I got to my parents’ house in La Boca Vista (Phase III) — or is it Mar Gables? — I asked them about, well, the air conditioning. “I’m very comfortable,” said my mom… of course. Okay, well, I asked them — just what exactly number do you guys set the air conditioner at here?
How can I time this for you in writing?
I’ll just come out and say it. It’s set on seventy-seven degrees!!! Yes, that is the target temperature, not the one that, when it gets to be that outside, you turn on the air conditioner!
Okay, so I am a still-hot-running saftig forty-five-year-old male, not a 67-year-old woman recovering from an operation and her dutiful husband, but I have to admit the concept really did take me back to that Seinfeld episode.