It can Happen in Restaurants, Theaters, and even Airplanes

Some people do a double-take when they see me on a hot summer day with a jacket wrapped around my waist, but there is a method to my madness. Even when the thermometer hits a blazing 100 degrees, some public places crank up the air conditioning almost to the point of frosting their windows.

My wife and I flew to Atlanta a few days ago to see our grandchildren. While sitting on the tarmac, the plane's interior became so heated that a group of camels asked to come aboard. That all changed once we were in the air.

Within five minutes, our desert turned into Antarctica. One could almost see their breath in the air. We quickly turned off the air nozzles above our heads, but Arctic-like air continued to pummel us throughout the trip.

Luckily, I'd brought along a jacket. This helped, but the frigid air penetrated the jacket to such an extent that I could not do one of my favorite flight pastimes- sleep. After the flight, it took me ten minutes to thaw out under a crisp Atlanta sun.

Occasionally, I've been blasted by cold air in theaters while trying to watch a movie. Once at the theater, my better half snuggled against me. I thought she was being romantic, but she simply wanted some of my body heat. (I should have known. On cold winter nights, she uses my body to heat her feet!)

A couple of years ago, we went to the theater to see a movie about the North Pole. It was so cold in there that it was easy to believe we were at the North Pole. I would not have been surprised to have seen a couple of polar bears sitting in front of us, sipping Cokes and munching popcorn.

During the first few years of our marriage, while the movie was in progress, my wife would ask me to go to the car to get a sweater for her. I didn't mind, except for the fact I'd missed an important part of the movie. Now older but wiser, both of us bring jackets with us.

We have dealt with several problems in restaurants. Often, the young workers will select music to blare over the room, music no one over 25 wants to hear. Moreover, they blast it so loudly that having a good conversation becomes nearly impossible.

One restaurant we went to was almost fully automated. Using a computerized screen, the customer punches in his choices and then uses a credit card to pay the bill. The receipt has “your” number on it. When that number is called, you walk up to the counter to get your food. Then you get your own drink, plate, and utensils. When the meal is finished, you clean up the mess.

Ironically, on the receipt is a place to leave a tip. Usually, I'm a generous tipper, but in this case, I refused to leave one red cent, for my wife and I did all the work. A tip should be for good service, not for a lack of service.

With that being said, the biggest problem we've encountered in restaurants is the freezing effect. It was so cold in one eatery that I was tempted to stick my toes into the soup to avoid frostbite. It was so cold that two polar bears were sitting at a nearby table, wearing coats, scarves, and mittens.

So if you see me this summer wearing a jacket around my waist, please cut me some slack. Besides, it's not as silly as the explanation given by a couple of farmers to my mom when she was a kid.

She asked why they were wearing long underwear while working under a blazing summer sun. They replied: “We do it to keep the heat out.” Somehow, I doubt that it worked.