<![CDATA[Grist - Comment Feed for As the world swelters]]> Grist Comment Feed en Comment #1 by caniscandida http://www.grist.org/article/as-the-world-swelters/ Thu, 23 Mar 2006 08:58:45 -0800 http://www.grist.org/article/as-the-world-swelters/1 post-modern para-literary masterpiece

The overheard conversations of NYC, mea patria, hi polis mou, are indeed exquisite, not-quite-ready-for-literature gems.  Thanks to Emily for sharing this with us.

I confess, I myself have uttered words to the effect of, "Thank God for global warming!," on a balmy day in January.  Stupid, silly, meaningless.  But have you ever walked from Broadway and 116th Street, the Columbia subway stop, down to Riverside, during the winter, when the wind is up?

]]> post-modern para-literary masterpiece

The overheard conversations of NYC, mea patria, hi polis mou, are indeed exquisite, not-quite-ready-for-literature gems.  Thanks to Emily for sharing this with us.

I confess, I myself have uttered words to the effect of, "Thank God for global warming!," on a balmy day in January.  Stupid, silly, meaningless.  But have you ever walked from Broadway and 116th Street, the Columbia subway stop, down to Riverside, during the winter, when the wind is up?

]]> Comment #2 by Emily Gertz http://www.grist.org/article/as-the-world-swelters/ Thu, 23 Mar 2006 23:21:27 -0800 http://www.grist.org/article/as-the-world-swelters/2 indeed a gem

Overheard in New York is marvelous.  Glad to have turned you on to it, cc!

Those rare (still relatively rare!) balmy January days really do feel like gifts in the middle of a mid-Atlantic winter.  But here's the flip side:  Have you ever ridden in an un-air-conditioned 6 train (that's the east side local, for non-NYers -- a slow ride) on a humid 90-something degree (F) afternoon in August?

As I overheard a fellow straphanger say on that day, "This is my idea of hell: the 6 in the summer at rush hour."

]]> indeed a gem

Overheard in New York is marvelous.  Glad to have turned you on to it, cc!

Those rare (still relatively rare!) balmy January days really do feel like gifts in the middle of a mid-Atlantic winter.  But here's the flip side:  Have you ever ridden in an un-air-conditioned 6 train (that's the east side local, for non-NYers -- a slow ride) on a humid 90-something degree (F) afternoon in August?

As I overheard a fellow straphanger say on that day, "This is my idea of hell: the 6 in the summer at rush hour."

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