Thirty-Two Degrees Is The Same Everywhere

I guess thirty-two degrees out in the country is pretty much the same as thirty-two degrees in the big city except in the city you have the constant smell of gas and diesel fumes, the combined smell of stale French fry oil and every other food sold in restaurants, the constant roar of the freeway traffic, sirens from police and fire equipment competing for airtime and the occasional loud "Bam!" which causes you to wonder if that was a car back firing, a transformer blowing up or if someone just got shot. Yeah, I guess it's about the same, once you get used to it.