Too Darn Hot

It ain't just a Cole Porter number from Kiss Me Kate. I mean, it is truly too darn hot (and too *!#$%!* humid!). Shorty does not do well in heat and humidity. I know, I know - I come from Atlanta, GA and should be immune to this summertime sludge, but, nope. I've never done well in the heat.

One reason is that my own personal body temp is higher than the norm. No 98.6 for me, thank you. I run a steady 99.2. The Red Cross Blood Center in Atlanta has a note of it on my file, since I donate several times a year (just to get the cookies and juice, mind you). So right from the git-go, I'm bakin' a little bit. Shove me out into 80-90-degree weather with 80% humidity and I'm pert-near dead.

Now, in Atlanta, I could go from air-conditioned house to AC car to AC work to AC store, etc. Not that easy here in NYC. The subway cars are nice and cool but the stations aren't. Then there's the hike to and from Grand Central (OK, not long, only a couple of blocks. But in this heat . . . ) that gets me to where I'm going looking just like I stepped out of the shower. Wringing wet. And lots of places here aren't air-conditioned or at least they haven't turned 'em on yet. I feel like a walking sponge inside a plastic bag. My poor 99.2-degree body is cryin' "Uncle!" Nothing I can do about it except wait patiently for autumn.

But I did find an appropriate quote from Henry David Thoreau (not to let Winston get ahead of me on this) regarding heat. And writing. It's more about writing than heat, but I'm making the connection 'tween the two and passin' it on.

Ahem:

"Write while the heat is in you. The writer who postpones the recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a hole with. He cannot inflame the minds of his audience."

- Henry David Thoreau

So I guess it means that while it's really hot outside and I have the "heat" in me, I should get over my writer's block and start burning a hole in something. Or something like that.