Summertime has officially arrived and we’re in the midst of a bloody heat wave already. Not that I want to base this tirade on global warming, but it seems like the dog days of summer have been arriving earlier for the past several years.
Beware when anyone uses a disclaimer with the word “but” included. They are going to surely do whatever they claimed they weren’t about to, like, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but you’re as bright as a two-watt light bulb in a sandstorm.”
Last year it was on July 12 that I first complained about the heat. In 2016 the first heat-wave diatribe was on July 8. Ok, so that one was before 2017’s, but by only four days. The year before that was on July 21st. In 2013, the first heat-wave rave was on July 22nd. whereas in 2014, my first mention of sweltering weather occurred on July 2nd.
This year, June is just about to end at midnight and we’re already two days into it.
As kids, we experienced “Dog Days” in August, but that was many decades ago in the last millennium, so we might as well consider it in the Dark Ages.
Allow me to borrow from an old comedy bit about unbearable temperatures, and pass on the following nonsense:
How hot has it been in Philly?
The birds have to use pot holders to pull worms out of the ground.
The potatoes cook underground, and all you have to do to have lunch is to pull one out and add butter, salt and pepper.
Farmers are feeding their chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying hard-boiled eggs.
The cows are giving evaporated milk.
The trees are whistling for the dogs.
You no longer associate bridges (or rivers) with water.
You can say 113 degrees without fainting.
You eat hot chilies to cool your mouth off.
You can make instant sun tea.
You learn that a seat belt makes a pretty good branding iron.
The temperature drops below 95, you feel a bit chilly.
You discover that in July, it takes only 2 fingers to drive your car.
You discover that you can get a sunburn through your car window.
You notice the best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
Hot water now comes out of both taps.
It’s noon in July; kids are on summer vacation, and not one person is out on the streets.
You actually burn your hand opening the car door.
You break a sweat the instant you step outside at 7:30 a.m. before work.
No one would dream of putting vinyl upholstery in a car or not having air-conditioning.
Your biggest bicycle-wreck fear is, “What if I get knocked out and end up lying on the pavement and cook to death?”
You realize that asphalt has a liquid state.
This present incarnation of Dante’s Inferno is supposed to last until next Saturday before any relief is forecasted. Brought the Cooper in for its yearly, major service earlier this week and had the air-conditioner recharged, the serpentine belt and valve-cover gasket replaced, the oil changed, fluids checked—replenished where necessary—new windshield-wiper blades put on, and had the tires rotated. Methinks it’s time for a road trip to a more temperate location.
Thanks for stopping in and for your continued support. Remember to stay hydrated. Hope you stay cool!