Heat Wave

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Before I even start, let me assure those readers sweating it out in New Orleans, Austin, Mobile, lesser Florida, O-myfuckinggod-man, and other hot-ass environs that I understand my complaint about the heat here will let loose a snark storm. I am prepared for that. To those of you who would belittle my suffering, I say bring it, bitch.

I had to go make an award presentation in San Jose yesterday. The farther away one gets from civilization and the Golden Gate, the hotter it gets. San Jose, 60 miles south of here, was in the high 80s. Omigod, I was dying. Cue snark storm. I know plenty of you will not see 80 degrees again until a cold snap blows through in the autumn; I was once one of you. As I was trudging along (in a sport coat, mind you,) I kept reminding myself of my Gulf Coast youth and how I would have laughed at the idea that this was even warm.

But my life here has softened me and by the time I got to the presentation, I was sweaty, sticky and probably smelly. You know how fair-skinned older men have a distinctive aroma? I keep wondering, Is that me? Don’t answer that.

Plus the award was one we were making mostly because we needed to present it, not because someone particularly deserved to receive it. Sometimes in a political world the existence of the award is much more important that who actually gets it. Thus, I wound up trying to make a speech that did not expose the fact the criteria for the honor was mostly that the recipient was breathing and frequently wore shoes.

Fortunately, I was able to flee back here where nature keeps the airconditioning blasting outside. A little fog, a little cool ocean breeze and I am once again a happy poof. It’s important to occasionally be reminded why life here is so expensive. We’re paying for the climate.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

12 responses »

  1. No snark from me, heat is heat! Acclimatization is the word. I find I do better the less air-conditioning that I suck up. That way when a hurricane strikes and the power goes out for weeks I glide through with only a light glisten.

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  2. “…high 80s…”

    Oh, I suppose I could snark on that. Or simply give a slightly hollow laugh. But no; you're right. It's all about how one feels, and I hate that damp, trickly, stuck-in-a-jacket feeling as much as anybody.

    What I'm really doing, of course, is reserving the right to complain bitterly about how freezing I am come November, when the temperature in our part of the world gets down to the high 80s…

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  3. Miss J would love to snark but she is afraid it would only raise the temperature.
    Her solution to the outrageous SoCal heat yesterday was to stay inside all day. The past two weeks she has taken to doing nothing on Sundays but lay on her bed and read and she finds its great for beating the heat.

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  4. I'm in DC with 90+ degrees and loads of humidity (I understand it is good for the complexion) and I am a total A/C whore. I rarely venture out in the daylight in the summer heat.

    No snarking from me. I grew up in a mountain town that gives away lemonade if the temp reaches 90.

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