The heat wave finally broke last Friday.
High humidity remained during the past weekend of rainy weather, making the real-feel temperatures still in the brutal range.
This week brings much-needed relief, however.
So far, the summer has been the hottest I’ve ever experienced in this region, having lived here for over twenty years.
Residing in North and South Jersey before that, and in various locations around the country for most of my life, I never felt as rung-out when spending time outdoors, trying to keep cool, as I did during June and July of this year.
Heat tolerance diminishes as one grows older, another complaint that can be added to the list on my previous rant. August, which is usually noted for being “dog days,” or terribly hot and humid, has just arrived. I’m hoping the worst passed us.
The regional forecast for the first third of this month predicts temperatures will stay in the mid-80s (~28 C) during the day, with overnight temps to dip into the mid- to upper 60s (20C). I can handle that perfectly with no problems at all: very temperate and comfortable in my book.
My weekly diatribes have been too condescending or critical, as has been pointed out to me by an old friend whose opinions I value. Like running headfirst into a stone wall, knocking me for a loop, I realized she was right.
Being judgemental and debasing has become a norm on Social Media, especially during the present election year in the U.S. The Internet has been full of trolls since its inception. As the saying goes, “Haters will always hate.”
Building walls around one’s frustrations or insecurities fuels this behavior. Lashing out at others releases that pent-up negative energy in abundance, making those who do it feel better about themselves, like Pavlov’s salivating dogs after hearing the ringing of their dinner bell.
Honest criticism is necessary for any society to improve itself, and true artists look for it to lead them in the right direction to excel, as society can become greater as the result.
When hatred comes into play, the critique essentially turns poisonous, eating at the very core of creativity and decency, destroying whatever spark of talent or goodness that may be there.
Either way, lack of criticism whatsoever is a main destroyer.
But anyway, I did the dreaded food-shopping today which forces me to be critical and condescending again.
What’s wrong with the picture on the right?
I shivered to think of the inconsiderate nincompoop in that Honda next to my Cooper, when the driver opened the door to get out.
After checking to make sure no new dings were present, marked with gray paint, I had to squeeze in between the spaces for putting the groceries on the front seat and floor of the car, making sure my door didn’t dent or ding the indeterminate dinger, if there is such a diabolical term.
Fortunately for me, no new dings were present. Had there been, I would have been really stoked in this essay.
My biggest gripe is how cars when parked next to the Cooper seem to appear as if the driver aimed his vehicle at getting as close to my car as possible.
Is it because the auto is small, and any extra area in my parking space is open season for incompetent drivers to infringe upon, while garnering almost a third of an empty spot next to the other side of them?
I always park my automobile in the middle of the parking space, to allow maximum room so as not to get dinged; but end up with numbskulls like in the incident shown above.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened while doing the dirty deed: food-shopping. Oh, how I hate doing it. Blame it on my perennial laziness and procrastination if you will.
Keeping in mind not to be as critical and condescending, I smiled a lot, remaining gracious to those who were blocking the aisles and such, even helping one lady pick out the least expensive, extra-virgin olive oil. Aren’t they all the same actually?
Now that my cabinets and refrigerator have been replenished, I happened to just glance out the sliding glass door of my flat, outside to the terrace and saw the following:
I had to get a shot of this from outside just to prove my point, although I wasn’t able to capture the gray SUV’s right tire over the line delineating the space between us. Hopefully there weren’t any passengers who got out earlier.
I’ll be checking my driver’s side door for dings tomorrow.
OK, I’ll try to be good now and bite my tongue in the future. Thanks for stopping in with your continued support.
As a postscript, allow me to plug my latest Cover Your Ears version of “Yer Blues,” by John Lennon, during which I got a blister on my finger while playing the drums: