Word: chilling
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...elements were simply a challenge to some outdoorsmen -and women. The combination of -23° temperatures and 46-m.p.h. winds on New Hampshire's Mount Washington created a -95° wind-chill factor-but did not stop some hikers from risking their lives on its lower slopes. The same was true in New York's gale-whipped Adirondacks, where Psychiatric Social Worker Bill Myers explained that people went out in such weather just because it was there. Said he: "It's an aggressive response, not a passive response like staying inside with a blanket...
...major worry of some New Englanders seemed to be where to go for a warm vacation. Thomas K. Wiehl III, a flight instructor in Pittsfield, Mass., flew a Connecticut vacationer south in search of sun. They landed in Savannah, Ga., balked at the 50° chill, rejected Key West (65°), figured Bimini ought to do better than its 70°, and eventually wound up 300 miles southeast of Miami in the Exuma Islands' toasty 85°. Then Wiehl flew home into the miseries of ice, sleet...
...chill extended across the Florida panhandle, where the biggest problem was the shortage of natural gas. Utilities Director Tom Smith in Tallahassee suggested that residents should take a bath only every other day. Frostproof (pop. 2,814) belied its name, recording 27°. But the real novelty was snow-snow as far south as Miami and Boca Raton. "I feel sorry for these people working on a $100-a-day suntan," said Alex Ballora, pool manager at Key Biscayne's Sonesta Hotel. "What do you say when a guest comes up and asks you for an electric blanket...
Coriolanus by Shakespeare/Beethoven. Directed by Peter Sellars. Jan. 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 7:30 pm in the Loeb Experimental Theater. Tickets free at box office the day prior to the performance. Dracula lurks in wait for you. Thrills to go with the chill in the air, courtesy of Daedalus II, a new Boston drama company. Playing at 367 Boylston St., Boston Thursday and Friday at 8 and Saturdays at 7:30 and 10:15. Through Jan. 29. For info call...
...used to wonder what made me stand at the Elkview Bridge with a drunken chill along the base of my spine and start those two boys at that cliff, and what made them want to try it in the first place. But I think John Prine would know. It was the strangling to death in a claustrophobic small town, the desperation of it--and not some quiet desperation, either. It was as real and loud as the shout from Elvin Anderson's yelping GT-60 8.20s as he went slip-sliding into that stationwagon. But home...