It’s hot. It’s supposed to be. It’s summer in the Northern Hemisphere. That’s when our side of the Earth is closest to the sun. Physics 101. Ergo – the temperatures get just a tad bit warmer this time of year. Deal with it!
We go through this every year. Even here in Texas – where high Celsius marks are matched only by the arrogance of our politicians – meteorologists and safety officials have to tell people to stay out of the sun and drink lots of water. Older people, children and folks with perpetual paranoia syndrome (it may not be in medical texts, but I know it exists) are especially susceptible to the heat. Don’t leave pets in vehicles, count your brood of kids when you return from an outing, try not to fall asleep atop your boat on the lake after downing a keg of Miller Lite – they tell people these things. Every damn year! And, some idiot leaves a dog in a car with the windows rolled up or forgets that the youngest child was asleep in the back.
Just recently, a police officer left his two dogs in his police truck – and forgot about them! And, the bastard was a canine handler at that. Surprise – both dogs suffocated to death. He’s been placed on a leave of absence pending the outcome of an investigation. I have a great idea. Duct tape his ass to the roof of Mitt Romney’s Bentley and leave him there until after the elections.
I have some nerve to rant. I actually like to go out jogging in this weather – although I haven’t been out jogging in a few years. But, in the middle of a torrid summer afternoon, clad in nothing but running shorts, running shoes and matching ball cap or kerchief, I’d head out to taunt the sun. People look at me like…well, like they’ve never seen someone outside running.
What’s wrong with you?! Are you crazy?!
No – just had too many sunburns as a kid and got used to it.
Late one Saturday afternoon several years ago, I took a lengthy jog around the park across the street from the apartment complex where I used to live. It’s a nice little area, and I had it all to myself. Came back sweating like a Coke bottle stuck up a Brahma bull’s ass and smelled just as bad. Fully aware of my surroundings though; knew how far to push myself. As I reached the street, headed back towards the complex, along comes a Dallas police officer, slowly ambling down the street in her cruiser. Good, I thought, she’s keeping an eye on the neighborhood. I couldn’t have been more wrong!
She opened her passenger side window and hollered, “Are you crazy?! Do you realize how hot it is out here?!”
“Yes,” I replied, sweat starting to irritate my eyes. Are you kidding me? She stopped to ask me that?! There aren’t any real criminals to accost? Can’t she kind a carjacker and yell at them instead? She wasted five minutes of precious taxpayer time to scold me for jogging on a triple-digit-temperature day? Must have been a slow crime day. Or, maybe she just felt like screaming at someone because she had to work on a Saturday afternoon.
People from the cooler climates have the unwitting tendency to ask, ‘Do you ever get used to the heat?’
Do you get used to the cold?
Hell no! You never get used to it. Just like you never get used to bad days at work and people driving slow in the left lane. You just deal with that shit when it slams you in the face. You can’t get used to extremes. That’s impossible. Animals deal with extreme temperature and weather conditions better than most people. Navy SEALs do pretty well with those elements, too. But, the rest of us aren’t genetically programmed as nicely.
So, I leave more skin cells on the steering wheel of my truck after it’s been sitting beneath the sun for some time and try to keep my eyes on the road, despite burying my face in a cooling vent. That’s how I deal with it. Just don’t yell at me!
Image.
Chief Writing Wolf 