Bryant Square Park has been transformed into a corporate ice skating arena. ‘Above 42nd Street, below 32 degrees!’ proclaims a banner under a giant Bank of America logo. The seating area around the perimeter of the temporary rink consists of a low platform covered with blue Astroturf surrounded by red fencing. Corporate colors. I sit down to eat my lunch and observe the skaters. There are the usual admixture of experienced showboats, awkward couples and scared-looking newbies, who move forward in jerky motions (like they’re trying to reproduce normal steps but with twice the effort on a slippery surface). It takes me several minutes to realize what’s incongruous about this somewhat tacky version of a traditional winter sport: the skaters are wearing short sleeves, it’s seventy degrees out. I can’t help but wonder to what extent this summery climate detracts from the intended atmosphere – after all, the idea of ice skating originated on frozen lakes in the heart of winter, and can’t simply be transposed to a balmy, climate-changed November. Don’t the laughs and cries of joy ring a little hollow in the ears of these fair weather skaters? But then, perhaps this is merely one coping strategy among many: if things are going to hell in a hand basket, why not at least try to enjoy the ride? Skating in short sleeves? Well, why not?