In March of 2004, I made a week-long trip to Arizona, for a good friend’s wedding. When I left Atlanta, temperatures had been in the high 60’s and it had been raining for days. I flew into Phoenix, where it was bright, sunny and the daytime temperatures hovered in the low-90’s. At night, it never got below 70. Following the wedding, another friend and I drove to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, where the skies were clear and daytime temperatures were in the 40’s and 50’s. At night, it dipped to near-freezing levels. Following a few more days in 90-plus degree weather in Phoenix, I returned to Atlanta. My return flight had a connection in Detroit, Michigan. The plane landed, only to be greeted by falling snow and temperatures in the low 30’s. The plane had to be de-iced before it could take off again. A few hours later, I landed in Atlanta, where it was 70 and pouring rain.
We had been walking for about forty-five minutes, making our way from Manhattan’s South Street Seaport to the Macy’s flagship store on 34th Street. When we were within fifteen blocks of our destination, some of my companions decided that we should complete our journey by cab. Despite my attempts to convince them to keep walking, they were insistent. The trip that ensued was a true New York experience. After a few minutes of trying, one of my companions was able to hail a cab. However, we wanted to go north. The cab that stopped was going south. It did not seem to matter, though, as my companions still got in the cab. One person sat in the front while I slipped into the backseat, between the other two. Hardly before the doors could close, the driver had fought his way into Manhattan traffic. Without warning, he took a sharp right turn onto a side street and began to head north, steadily increasing his speed. Within seconds, the cab was weaving a...
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