There are no doubt many places in the world where one looks out one's window to see snow and palm trees at the same time, and so I must seem very provincial to be so struck by the combination, but there you are.  Spend your formative years in rural Ohio and many things seem fantastic and marvelous, even impossible: ski slopes simultaneous with tropical vegetation is just the beginning.  Plus, I am easily impressed.

You must remember, however, that my first taste of the exotic was in Shaker Heights, an especially cosmopolitan part of Cleveland in those days, home to a smart exclusive gathering place aptly named The Shaker Club where one met so many interesting people from all walks of life -- artists and designers mingling with captains of industry and the very upper echelon of high society.  In turn, one was invited to special events in homes and apartments across the city in what became a dizzying social whirl in which one was exposed to a myriad array of new delights.  My horizons, as they say, expanded.  My future, if not specifically incorporating snow and tropical landscapes, certainly appeared bright.  And in the immediate present there were many "firsts."  You can imagine, to take but one example, how exhilarating brunch with champagne and fish on doughnuts can seem to a teenager.  "What's a bagel?" I asked with one in my hand, inducing much hilarity in my host who sang the refrain from Marlene Dietrich's immortal "Mein Blondes Baby" and later explained what a goy was.  

Another new friend, a much older, distinguished and generous gentleman whose tastefully appointed home included a portrait of Catherine the Great over the drawing room mantel, would send a car to pick me up and take me with him to cultural events and to private parties afterward, telling the other guests that I was his nephew.  A "little white lie" in which I was more than happy to be complicit. 

"Charlie's nephew?" a friend of my host repeated somewhat quizzically.  I nodded politely.
"And where did you meet your uncle?" he asked.
"At The Shaker Club," I replied, perhaps a trifle too truthfully for my own good.