My frozen brain cells.

My Italian true love didn't want me to go walking last night. Because it was windy. 'My gawd,' I replied, 'when I'm back in Minnesota I go walking in a blizzard. With howling winds of 40 or 50 miles an hour. One can hardly see.' That compares to a 15-mile an hour breeze and a balmy temperature of 60 degrees in Sardinia. It's an example of perceived hostile weather here. The longtime inhabitants of Paradise are spoiled. They are sissies. I'm considered a tough hombre, or even a lunatic, for venturing out in a short-sleeved shirt on a warm night. The other day it was sunny and balmy. And on my walk I looked for a Sardinian in a shortsleeved shirt. I spied only one. Looked like a student. Carrying books. Standing at a bus stop. Must have been an exchange student. From Minnesota. A clerk in a grocery store was amazed because I was out wearing a t-shirt. 'Yes,' my true love said, 'he comes from near the Arctic Circle.' Implying that my brain cells have been frozen. Solid. --Jim Broede