When I turned eighteen, my uncle took myself and others to Puerto Rico for my birthday.
Since my birthday was around Thanksgiving, he decided to spend the holiday with friends of his, in San Juan City, and then I headed over to St, thomas to do some sightseeing.
I was kind of thrown off when I saw some people walking around the town in parkas. I was in my shorts and t-shirt. It was sixty degrees outside, although I was comfortable. Both of us had left beach house when the temperatures were freezing. Both of us flew out of an airport that was getting ready to stop flights because of the snow that was falling. My uncle told myself and others to pack light, but make sure I had something sizzling for the trip to the airport. The taxi had an excellent oil furnace, so the blazer I wore was a bit too heavy for the ride. The airport had their gas furnace running full blast, to offset the frigid air that was coming in with every passenger. Even the jetliner had their oil furnaces on to keep the travellers comfortable. I couldn’t recognize how much of a change there was when every one of us got off the plane. The air was cooler and it was like a breath of fresh air. That’s when I saw the guys in their parkas. I couldn’t help but laugh and my uncle also had a smile. I told him that it wasn’t cold. He told myself and others that they had air conditioner on for several weeks a year. When the temperatures went below seventy-several, it was like when it got into the forties at home. They already had the oil furnaces going and I could see smoke coming from all of the chimneys.