Today at noon we stood on the beach wrapped tightly in scarves and down jackets while three of our friends jumped into the Atlantic Ocean. They were taking part in the annual Polar Bear Plunge at the Jersey shore, where 2,000 people think of pretty much the most painful thing they could possibly do -- strip down and dive into 38-degree water on a 30-degree day -- and then do it in the name of charity.
Crazy people, these three. It's no coincidence that they're siblings.
After our friends' split-second "swim," we went to a bar, the Polar Bears thirsty and jacked with adrenaline. We ate good bar food and got rowdy in a public place on a Sunday afternoon, and then Margy and I went home and she made German apple pancakes, possibly her best ever.
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