When I turned eighteen, my uncle took me 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 we headed over to St. Thomas to do some sightseeing. I was kind of thrown off when I saw some people walking around the city in parkas. I was in my shorts and t-shirt. It was sixty degrees outside, but I was comfortable. We had left home when the temperatures were freezing. We flew out of an airport that was getting ready to stop flights because of the snow that was falling. My uncle told me to pack light, but make sure I had something warm for the trip to the airport. The taxi had an excellent heating system, so the jacket I wore was a bit too heavy for the ride. The airport had their heater running full blast, to offset the cold air that was coming in with every passenger. Even the airplane had their heaters on to keep the travellers comfortable. I couldn’t believe how much of a change there was when we got off the plane. The air was cooler and it was like a breath of fresh air. That’s when I saw the boys 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 me that they had air conditioning on for eight months a year. When the temperatures went below seventy-five, it was like when it got into the forties at home. They already had the furnaces going and I could see smoke coming from all of the chimneys.