- My human will never let me eat her pet hamster, and I will be at peace with that.
- I will not puff my entire body to twice its size for no reason after my human has finished watching a horror movie.
- I will not use the bathtub to store live mice for late-night snacks.
- I will not perch on my human's chest in the middle of the night and stare into her eyes until she wakes up.
- I will not assume the patio door is open when I race outside to chase leaves.
- I will not play "dead cat on the stairs" while people are trying to bring in groceries or laundry, or else one of these days, it will really come true.
- If I MUST claw my human, I will not do it in such a fashion that the scars resemble a botched suicide attempt.
- I will not drag the magnets (and the papers they are holding up) off of the refrigerator and then bat them underneath it so that they adhere to the underside.
- Screaming at the can of food will not make it open itself.
- When it rains, it will be raining on all sides of the house. It is not necessary to check every door.
- I will learn to relax at the vet's office so they will start writing things in my records like "Good Kitty" and "Sweet Kitty" instead of the stuff that's there now like "MEAN!!" "BITES!!!" and "GET HELP!!!!!"
- I will not be miffed at my human all day and then kiss her on the nose at 2:00 a.m. to tell her that she is forgiven and can now pet me.
Monday, December 31, 2007
New Year's resolutions for the feline
New Year's resolutions for the canine
- I will stop trying to find the few remaining clean pieces of carpet in the house when I am about to throw up.
- I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc.
- I will not chew my human's toothbrush and not tell them.
- When in the car, I will not insist on having the window rolled down when it's raining outside.
- I will not bark each time I hear a door bell on TV.
- I will not walk under the big dog when he is peeing.
- I will not steal Mom's underwear and dance all over the back yard with it.
- I will not play tug-o'-war with Dad's underwear when he's on the toilet.
- I will remember my head does not belong in the refrigerator.
- I will not bite the officer's hand when he reaches in for Mom's driver's license and car registration.
- I will remember the garbage collector is NOT stealing our stuff.
- I must shake the rainwater out of my fur BEFORE entering the house.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
a gentle growl
To All My Democrat Friends:
Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2008, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country nor the only America in the Western Hemisphere. Also, this wish is made without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishees.
To My Republican Friends:
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2008, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country nor the only America in the Western Hemisphere. Also, this wish is made without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishees.
To My Republican Friends:
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
a proposal
Come. Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
the last of life,
for which the first was made.
- Robert Browning
The best is yet to be,
the last of life,
for which the first was made.
- Robert Browning
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
one of the Kat's favorite words is Listen
Carl Sagan told the story of the last question on a biology final exam:
One essay -- it earned an A -- went like this: "Ask the inhabitants. Even a negative answer would be significant."
Here on Earth, the anthropologist and adventurer Thor Heyerdahl sailed a raft, the Kon Tiki, from South America to Easter Island. His goal: To demonstrate that his hypothesis regarding cultural diffusion from South America into Polynesia was possible.
Prior to Heyerdahl's landing, archaeologists and those who play on the fringes of scientific inquiry had developed a wide variety of elaborate theories to explain how the island's famous multi-ton stone statues came to be erected. Among the more popular: Space aliens did it, presumably as a change of pace from leaving crop circles in the English countryside.
Heyerdahl took an approach to discovering the answer that was, if anything, more daring than sailing his raft across the Pacific ocean. He asked the inhabitants, who happily demonstrated the technique their ancestors had used.
In corporate America, right now as you read these words, there are companies in trouble. The executives responsible for running them don't know they're in trouble, but they are.
The reason these executives don't know their companies are in trouble is that they've never pondered the question of life on Mars, nor the mysteries of Easter Island. Their knowledge of the companies they lead comes from financial reports, information provided to them through the chain of command, and their memory of how things used to be when they were lower in the hierarchy and closer to the action.
Were they to ask the inhabitants -- were they to talk directly to employees and customers -- they would know that:
An observation which might or might not be relevant: In my admittedly limited and indirect experience, officers (and former officers) who use the term "rank and file" are also the ones who consider their military forces to be nameless and faceless troops who they blithely send out to be shot at for no valid tactical reason.
They are also more likely to refer to dead civilians as "collateral damage," not as tragedies.
The officers who refer to these same people as "soldiers" or "men and women" are more likely to choose the right battles and tactics. They are also more likely to have real conversations with the men and women who do the actual fighting and know what conditions are really like on the ground.
They listen, that is, to the inhabitants.
Since we're on the subject of military tactics, here's a piece of wisdom that's at least as old as Sun Tzu: The battle is always for hearts and minds.
Taking and holding land certainly matters. It just doesn't matter as much, because if you have the hearts and minds of the men and women who fight for you, and of the civilians who live in the disputed territory, you'll end up with the land. Without their hearts and minds, you'll lose tomorrow the land you took today.
While the stakes are less dramatic, as an IT leader the same wisdom applies to you. Whatever you're trying to accomplish, you first need to win the hearts and minds of the men and women who have to make it happen.
They are the inhabitants. If you want their hearts and minds, talk with them.
Have a subject you'd like the author to cover in KJR or Advice Line? Drop him a line and let him know. What - you think he has all the good ideas myself? Bob Lewis is president of IT Catalysts, Inc. ( www.itcatalysts.com ) an independent consultancy specializing in IT effectiveness and strategic alignment. Contact him at rdlewis@issurvivor.com
Don't leave him sitting here in a vacuum!
If you think he's full of beans, let him know. The address is Letters@ISSurvivor.com. Or, if you need advice, ask for it at Advice@ISSurvivor.com.
He sometimes uses reader letters in his columns. The rules:
If you like this article, why not let a friend enjoy it, too? It's fine with him, and in fact he'd be flattered. All he asks is that you send the whole thing, including this notice. But don't be shy ... if you think they'd like it, don't you think they should see it? But only those people - you wouldn't want him to get a reputation as a spammer, would you?
To Subscribe, visit http://www.issurvivor.com/registerKJR.asp
You're part of the first expedition to Mars. How would you determine if there's any life there?
One essay -- it earned an A -- went like this: "Ask the inhabitants. Even a negative answer would be significant."
Here on Earth, the anthropologist and adventurer Thor Heyerdahl sailed a raft, the Kon Tiki, from South America to Easter Island. His goal: To demonstrate that his hypothesis regarding cultural diffusion from South America into Polynesia was possible.
Prior to Heyerdahl's landing, archaeologists and those who play on the fringes of scientific inquiry had developed a wide variety of elaborate theories to explain how the island's famous multi-ton stone statues came to be erected. Among the more popular: Space aliens did it, presumably as a change of pace from leaving crop circles in the English countryside.
Heyerdahl took an approach to discovering the answer that was, if anything, more daring than sailing his raft across the Pacific ocean. He asked the inhabitants, who happily demonstrated the technique their ancestors had used.
In corporate America, right now as you read these words, there are companies in trouble. The executives responsible for running them don't know they're in trouble, but they are.
The reason these executives don't know their companies are in trouble is that they've never pondered the question of life on Mars, nor the mysteries of Easter Island. Their knowledge of the companies they lead comes from financial reports, information provided to them through the chain of command, and their memory of how things used to be when they were lower in the hierarchy and closer to the action.
Were they to ask the inhabitants -- were they to talk directly to employees and customers -- they would know that:
- Recent attempts to cut the cost of raw materials have resulted in deteriorating product quality.
- The "successful" system replacement project didn't actually turn off the old system, which means that a third of all financial transactions are posted using unaudited ad hoc patches.
- Following the recent offshore outsourcing effort, on-shore employees are spending a quarter of their time translating variable names and comments written in Urdu to English. They charge their time to maintenance so the outsourcing project will look more profitable.
- Employee morale is in the sub-basement because, following the significant wage concessions by employees needed to save the company, the top executives received serious bonus packages. Employees drew the obvious conclusion -- that their wage concessions were needed, not to save the company, but to fund the bonuses. (Okay, this last one didn't require talking to the inhabitants. Even the tiniest amount of empathy would have sufficed.)
- The "successful" system replacement project didn't actually turn off the old system, which means that a third of all financial transactions are posted using unaudited ad hoc patches.
An observation which might or might not be relevant: In my admittedly limited and indirect experience, officers (and former officers) who use the term "rank and file" are also the ones who consider their military forces to be nameless and faceless troops who they blithely send out to be shot at for no valid tactical reason.
They are also more likely to refer to dead civilians as "collateral damage," not as tragedies.
The officers who refer to these same people as "soldiers" or "men and women" are more likely to choose the right battles and tactics. They are also more likely to have real conversations with the men and women who do the actual fighting and know what conditions are really like on the ground.
They listen, that is, to the inhabitants.
Since we're on the subject of military tactics, here's a piece of wisdom that's at least as old as Sun Tzu: The battle is always for hearts and minds.
Taking and holding land certainly matters. It just doesn't matter as much, because if you have the hearts and minds of the men and women who fight for you, and of the civilians who live in the disputed territory, you'll end up with the land. Without their hearts and minds, you'll lose tomorrow the land you took today.
While the stakes are less dramatic, as an IT leader the same wisdom applies to you. Whatever you're trying to accomplish, you first need to win the hearts and minds of the men and women who have to make it happen.
They are the inhabitants. If you want their hearts and minds, talk with them.
Have a subject you'd like the author to cover in KJR or Advice Line? Drop him a line and let him know. What - you think he has all the good ideas myself? Bob Lewis is president of IT Catalysts, Inc. ( www.itcatalysts.com ) an independent consultancy specializing in IT effectiveness and strategic alignment. Contact him at rdlewis@issurvivor.com
Don't leave him sitting here in a vacuum!
If you think he's full of beans, let him know. The address is Letters@ISSurvivor.com. Or, if you need advice, ask for it at Advice@ISSurvivor.com.
He sometimes uses reader letters in his columns. The rules:
- In your letter, let him know if and how he can use it (as is, sanitized, or don't be ridiculous - you'll be found out and run out of town).
- Also let him know if you'd prefer to remain completely anonymous, or whether he may give you credit by name.
- All letters and responses are the property of IS Survivor Publishing, division of IT Catalysts, Inc.
If you like this article, why not let a friend enjoy it, too? It's fine with him, and in fact he'd be flattered. All he asks is that you send the whole thing, including this notice. But don't be shy ... if you think they'd like it, don't you think they should see it? But only those people - you wouldn't want him to get a reputation as a spammer, would you?
To Subscribe, visit http://www.issurvivor.com/registerKJR.asp
Thursday, July 26, 2007
echo of the Kat
2003Mar25
There was a tradesman, a painter called Wayne, who was very interested in making a penny where he could, so he often would thin down paint to make it go a wee bit further. As it happened, he got away with this for some time, but eventually the Baptist Church decided to do a big restoration job on the painting of one of their biggest buildings. Wayne put in a bid, and because his price was so low, he got the job. And so he set to erecting the trestles and setting up the planks, and buying the paint and, yes, I am sorry to say, thinning it down with turpentine. Well, Wayne was up on the scaffolding, painting away, the job nearly completed when suddenly there was a horrendous clap of thunder, and the sky opened, the rain poured down, washing the thinned paint from all over the church and knocking Wayne clear off the scaffold to land on the lawn among the gravestones, surrounded by telltale puddles of the thinned and useless paint. Wayne was no fool. He knew this was a judgment from the Almighty, so he got on his knees and cried: "Oh, God! Forgive me! What should I do?" And from the thunder, a mighty voice spoke: "Repaint! Repaint! And thin no more!"
There was a tradesman, a painter called Wayne, who was very interested in making a penny where he could, so he often would thin down paint to make it go a wee bit further. As it happened, he got away with this for some time, but eventually the Baptist Church decided to do a big restoration job on the painting of one of their biggest buildings. Wayne put in a bid, and because his price was so low, he got the job. And so he set to erecting the trestles and setting up the planks, and buying the paint and, yes, I am sorry to say, thinning it down with turpentine. Well, Wayne was up on the scaffolding, painting away, the job nearly completed when suddenly there was a horrendous clap of thunder, and the sky opened, the rain poured down, washing the thinned paint from all over the church and knocking Wayne clear off the scaffold to land on the lawn among the gravestones, surrounded by telltale puddles of the thinned and useless paint. Wayne was no fool. He knew this was a judgment from the Almighty, so he got on his knees and cried: "Oh, God! Forgive me! What should I do?" And from the thunder, a mighty voice spoke: "Repaint! Repaint! And thin no more!"
an echo from the Kat
5/21/2002 2:30 AM
A mother and her son were flying Southwest Airlines from Kansas City to Chicago. The son (who had been looking out the window) turned to his mother and asked, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?" The mother (who couldn't think of an answer) told her son to ask the Flight attendant. So the boy asked the Flight attendant, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?" The Flight attendant responded, "Did your mother tell you to ask me?" The boy admitted that this was the case. "Well, then, tell your mother that there are no baby planes because Southwest always pulls out on time. Your mother can explain it to you."
A mother and her son were flying Southwest Airlines from Kansas City to Chicago. The son (who had been looking out the window) turned to his mother and asked, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?" The mother (who couldn't think of an answer) told her son to ask the Flight attendant. So the boy asked the Flight attendant, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?" The Flight attendant responded, "Did your mother tell you to ask me?" The boy admitted that this was the case. "Well, then, tell your mother that there are no baby planes because Southwest always pulls out on time. Your mother can explain it to you."
Friday, July 20, 2007
horsing aroung
One day while he was at the track betting on the ponies and nearly losing his shirt, Mitch noticed a priest who stepped out onto the track and blessed the forehead of one of the horses lining up for the 4th race.
Lo and behold, that horse - a very long shot - won the race.
Mitch was most interested to see what the priest did the next race. Sure enough, the priest stepped out onto the track as the 5th race horses lined up, and placed a blessing on the forehead of one of the horses. Mitch made a beeline for the window and placed a small bet on the horse.
Again, even though it was another long shot, the horse the priest had blessed won the race.
Mitch collected his winnings and anxiously waited to see which horse the priest would bless for the 6th race.
The priest showed, blessed a horse, Mitch bet on it, and it won!
Mi tch was elated! As the day went on, the priest continued blessing horses, and they always came in first.
Mitch began to pull in some serious money, and by the last race, he knew his wildest dreams were going to come true. He made a quick stop at the ATM, withdrew his savings, and awaited the priest's blessing that would tell him which horse to bet on.
True to his pattern, the priest stepped out onto the track before the last race and blessed the forehead, eyes, ears, and hooves of one of the horses.
Mitch bet every cent, and watched the horse come in dead last. Mitch was dumbfounded. He made his way to the track, and when he found the priest, he demanded, "What happened, Father? All day long you blessed horses and they won. The last race, you blessed a horse and he lost. Now, thanks to you, I've lost all my savings!!"
The priest nodded wisely and said, "That's the problem with Protestants--you can't tell the difference between a simple blessing and the Last Rites!"
[posted by pup for Kat who is shy]
Lo and behold, that horse - a very long shot - won the race.
Mitch was most interested to see what the priest did the next race. Sure enough, the priest stepped out onto the track as the 5th race horses lined up, and placed a blessing on the forehead of one of the horses. Mitch made a beeline for the window and placed a small bet on the horse.
Again, even though it was another long shot, the horse the priest had blessed won the race.
Mitch collected his winnings and anxiously waited to see which horse the priest would bless for the 6th race.
The priest showed, blessed a horse, Mitch bet on it, and it won!
Mi tch was elated! As the day went on, the priest continued blessing horses, and they always came in first.
Mitch began to pull in some serious money, and by the last race, he knew his wildest dreams were going to come true. He made a quick stop at the ATM, withdrew his savings, and awaited the priest's blessing that would tell him which horse to bet on.
True to his pattern, the priest stepped out onto the track before the last race and blessed the forehead, eyes, ears, and hooves of one of the horses.
Mitch bet every cent, and watched the horse come in dead last. Mitch was dumbfounded. He made his way to the track, and when he found the priest, he demanded, "What happened, Father? All day long you blessed horses and they won. The last race, you blessed a horse and he lost. Now, thanks to you, I've lost all my savings!!"
The priest nodded wisely and said, "That's the problem with Protestants--you can't tell the difference between a simple blessing and the Last Rites!"
[posted by pup for Kat who is shy]
Thursday, June 21, 2007
O Kat, sound familiar?
For all of you out there who've had to deal with an irate customer, this one is for you.
It's a classic! In tribute to those 'special' customers we all love!
An award should go to the United Airlines gate agent in Denver for being smart and funny, and making her point, when confronted with a passenger who probably deserved to fly as cargo.
A crowded United flight was canceled and a single agent was rebooking a long line of inconvenienced travelers. Suddenly an angry passenger pushed his way to the desk. He slapped his ticket down on the counter and said,
It's a classic! In tribute to those 'special' customers we all love!
An award should go to the United Airlines gate agent in Denver for being smart and funny, and making her point, when confronted with a passenger who probably deserved to fly as cargo.
A crowded United flight was canceled and a single agent was rebooking a long line of inconvenienced travelers. Suddenly an angry passenger pushed his way to the desk. He slapped his ticket down on the counter and said,
I HAVE to be on this flight and it has to be FIRST CLASS.The agent replied,
I'm sorry sir. I'll be happy to try to help you, but I've got to help these folks first, and I'm sure we'll be able to work something out.The passenger was unimpressed. He asked loudly, so that the passengers behind him could hear,
Do you have any idea who I am?Without hesitating, the gate agent smiled and grabbed her public address microphone.
May I have your attention please?she began, her voice bellowing throughout the terminal.
We have a passenger here at the gate WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHO HE IS. If anyone can help him find his identity, please come to the gate.With the folks behind him in line laughing hysterically, the man glared at the United agent, gritted his teeth and swore,
F*** you.Without flinching, she smiled and said,
I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to stand in line for that, too.[from the email archives now being purged]
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Kat is hiding so pup stands in to post her message
Written by a housewife from New Jersey . . . this is one ticked off lady.
Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we? Was it or was it not started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on 2001Sep11? Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutally murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan , across the Potomac from our nation's capitol and in a field in PA? Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they?
And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was "desecrated" when an overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet? Well, I don't. I don't care at all.
I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.
I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in Saudi Arabia .
I'll care when these thugs tell the world they are sorry for hacking off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling slashed throat
I'll care when the cowardly so-called "insurgents" in Iraq come out and fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in mosques.
I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide bombs.
I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of the United States Constitution's Bill of Rights.
In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave marine roughing up an Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this . . . I don't care.
When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been humiliated in what amounts to a college-hazing incident, rest assured . . . I don't care.
When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank ... I don't care.
When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed "special" food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being "mishandled," you can absolutely believe in your heart of hearts . . . I don't care.
And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled "Koran" and other times "Quran." Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and you guessed it . . I don't care ! ! ! !
In case we find ourselves starting to believe all the anti-American sentiment and negativity, we should remember England 's Prime Minister Tony Blair's words during a recent interview. When asked by one of his Parliament members why he believes so much in America , he said,
Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we? Was it or was it not started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on 2001Sep11? Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutally murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan , across the Potomac from our nation's capitol and in a field in PA? Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they?
And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was "desecrated" when an overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet? Well, I don't. I don't care at all.
I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.
I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in Saudi Arabia .
I'll care when these thugs tell the world they are sorry for hacking off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling slashed throat
I'll care when the cowardly so-called "insurgents" in Iraq come out and fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in mosques.
I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide bombs.
I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of the United States Constitution's Bill of Rights.
In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave marine roughing up an Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this . . . I don't care.
When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been humiliated in what amounts to a college-hazing incident, rest assured . . . I don't care.
When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank ... I don't care.
When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed "special" food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being "mishandled," you can absolutely believe in your heart of hearts . . . I don't care.
And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled "Koran" and other times "Quran." Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and you guessed it . . I don't care ! ! ! !
Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the Marines don't have that problem. - Ronald ReaganI have another quote that I would like to add AND . . .. I hope you forward all of this.
If we ever forget that we're One Nation Under God, then we will be a nation gone under. - Ronald ReaganOne last thought for the day . . .
In case we find ourselves starting to believe all the anti-American sentiment and negativity, we should remember England 's Prime Minister Tony Blair's words during a recent interview. When asked by one of his Parliament members why he believes so much in America , he said,
A simple way to take measure of a country is to look at how many want in . . . and how many want out.Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you:
- Jesus Christ
- The American G. I.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Kat flies
The Kat is on her way to Israel. Let's hope her curiosity does not get the better of her.
p.s. it is cool in ATL.
49 F in my unheated garage a while ago. 25 F on front deck right now @ 11 pm.
p.s. it is cool in ATL.
49 F in my unheated garage a while ago. 25 F on front deck right now @ 11 pm.
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