No Aptitude For Latitude, Part 3

(My dad’s aunt is visiting from Texas, and she wants to visit NYC, about two and a half hours away. My aunt, my grandmother, my mom, and I take a day trip up there. After walking a lot, my aunt stops and leans against a building with her hands on her knees, breathing heavily.)

Mom: “Are you okay?”

Great-Aunt: “Oh, I’m fine, just a little winded because of the altitude. I’m not used to being this far above sea level.”

(Another sister of theirs lives in Colorado, so I assume that’s how she got it in her head that being out of breath in another state is the same as thinner air.)

Me: “But we’re at sea level, on an island. The ocean is right over there.”

Great-Aunt: “Oh, no, honey; we’re much higher up here than at home.”

Grandmother: *totally serious* “Right, because if you look at a map, Texas is down here, and New York is way up here!”

(When we get home, I look up the actual altitudes just for kicks. According to Google, New York City is 33 feet above sea level. Houston? 43 feet.)

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