There is no doubt it’s hot… in fact one could say REALLY bloody hot. But what is it with the need to know the actual ‘number’ that tells us how hot it is?
I admit that I am not a ‘numbers girl’ … I hate sudoko but love crosswords, hated maths but loved english. There is no way I could tell you the price per kilo of any meat or vegetable… (if I need it, then it’s the right price). Nor could I tell you exactly how much I weigh; if (like now) the muffin top begins to appear, then it’s time to stop eating. I prefer to not think about the number of years I have been around, and I struggle with having way too many numbers to choose from in order to find the right TV station.
On the other hand, Mr ‘50 Something’ is like The Rainman…give him a measurement or phone number and he can retain and recall it forever..In some ways I’m envious, but the thought of cluttering my brain with all those meaningless digits (then maybe needing to find them again) just freaks me.
With this numbers skill comes a fascination with all kinds of measurement…the speed of sound, the speed of light….the speed of speed !!! But then there is the temperature, ‘how hot is it going to be?’… ‘how hot is it now?’… ‘how cold was it?’. For him it’s all about the numbers, whereas for me it’s simple…. ‘do I feel hot?’, will I get cold?’, ‘do I think I’ll need to take a jacket, and if so, what colour?
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It wouldn’t do for us all to be the same … (as he says, between us we can count AND write) but watching the outside temperature gauge in the car flick up or down by a degree is not really enough to capture my imagination (on the other hand, if there was a scrabble board built into the dashboard …. I’d be there in a heartbeat).
Wonder Years 
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