It's the day I look forward to all winter: today, Central Park finally cracked 90 degrees. The high today was 93, although a sea breeze has knocked the temperature back down to 85 in the last hour.

I love the heat. Judging from conversations with friends, I'm in a small minority here. I'd so much rather have a day like today than that day this past winter when I went out for lunch in 17-degree chill. Or the Friday night when a date and I scurried from Penang to Blockbuster against icy 30-mph winds with a temperature of 9. Some people love the crisp autumn chill or even a sunny, cold day. I'd rather see temperatures in the 90s.

I love the way the city slows down and everyone wanders about in a more toned down manner. Yes, the subway platforms can get kind of gross, but I don't take the subway to work. The Lincoln Center area has an especially nice vibe with the park nearby and people out in the plaza next to Juilliard.

And let's face it: summer clothes are more fun to wear. None of this nonsense unraveling Gap-mandated layering while changing before and after the gym. It's in and out, more easily. This aspect may even offset exorbitant Con Ed bills to fund the energy supplier's wasteful advertising campaigns. It was great to go out last night to meet up with a friend with a temperature of 82, knowing that the issue of whether to bring a jacket (much less a hat and scarf) was not even on the table.

On all those days with near zero overnight lows, or icy winds, or heavy snow, or rain and slop with a temperature of 34 and northeast winds of 40 mph, I look forward to a simple summer day with a high in the low 90s.