Breeze, my windy ass

AREAWIND

Here in Florida, we're generally spared truly cold weather.  Where I live, if it gets below 40 Fahrenheit more than two or three days a year, it's a cold winter.  Our climatological crosses to bear are heat and humidity, and the occasional tropical cyclone.  (Oh, yeah: and we're the lightning capitol of the world)  During the summer, it gets nasty-sticky, but around five each afternoon, we get our sea breeze.  Sadly, this doesn't mean that we all are brought frosty glasses of vodka, with grapefruit and cranberry juices (although, Lord knows that'd be more refreshing).  Simply, we get a relatively cooling breeze of 15 knots or so off of the 88 degree Gulf of Mexico.  The only really nasty winds we get are with cold fronts in winter, and embedded in thunderstorms.  And, of course, tropical storms. 

So what's the difference between a breeze and a wind? Simple.  Breezes make things pleasant, and high wind is a pain in my keister.  Perhaps meteorologists have a more scientific criterion, but in my book, breezes are cool, and wind sucks.  The oak trees outside my cave have been just lovely, resplendent in tender new growth.  The wind outside is about 40 knots, and all those pretty leaves are blowing off of the trees.  Plus, wind scares the cat.

One thing I've noticed, though, is that wind is far more tolerable at 84 degrees than below zero, and we're lucky not to have those godawful blizzards some of you get.  (wind+cold+um, that white stuff (I can't remember the name!))

Even though wind may annoy me, I guess I'm happy to have mine as opposed to yours.  Still, that doesn't give it the right to scare Ana-Sofia and destroy my trees. 

Aside: this guy I used to work with referred to hurricanes as "massive tropical wind vaginas" and tornadoes as "big dangly wind penises."  I asked him why, and he said it's because when they're around, somebody always ends up getting fucked.  Roger that. 

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