Heat Wave
It’s pretty hot today—like 88 degrees Fahrenheit—the sun is out and everyone is kind of dragging their asses around all complaining like it’s too darn hot even though just last week, many would have given their left nut or ovary for a day like today, so I’m not complaining even if, by noting the fact of the matter, it might seem like I am.
I stood out on a sun-drenched pitching mound today, lobbing softballs at people who swung bats at them, but the good news is, a sufficient number of those hit back were caught by my team members and so, wonder of wonders, the Chuggers and Sluggers of Bill’s Off-Broadway managed to sweep a double-header, even though the first of our two stirring victories was by forfeit. But we’ll take it.
Meanwhile, you would think that, given how the media is reporting the weather, that we were being overwhelmed by a plague of locust or at least a tornado; which reminds me: I saw a guy walking down the street yesterday wearing a track jacket from Abercrombie and Fitch or something similar with the script name “Cyclones” across the front of it. And I thought that, given the recent tragedy in Myanmar, that to wear the thing smacked of cultural insensitivity if not just downright cluelessness, or both. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, but it was hard to ignore the word, given how prominent it has been in the reporting of the terrible, terrible, events in the country we used to call Burma.
By contrast, I’m down in my cool basement now, a place that for most of the year inclines me to wear fingerless wool gloves just so I call feel my digits on the keyboard; now, though, it’s my favorite place in the house: quiet, soothing, and moist—and when I’m ready for it, the Vaporizer just a few steps away.
Not saying I am, but a nap sounds good.
I stood out on a sun-drenched pitching mound today, lobbing softballs at people who swung bats at them, but the good news is, a sufficient number of those hit back were caught by my team members and so, wonder of wonders, the Chuggers and Sluggers of Bill’s Off-Broadway managed to sweep a double-header, even though the first of our two stirring victories was by forfeit. But we’ll take it.
Meanwhile, you would think that, given how the media is reporting the weather, that we were being overwhelmed by a plague of locust or at least a tornado; which reminds me: I saw a guy walking down the street yesterday wearing a track jacket from Abercrombie and Fitch or something similar with the script name “Cyclones” across the front of it. And I thought that, given the recent tragedy in Myanmar, that to wear the thing smacked of cultural insensitivity if not just downright cluelessness, or both. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, but it was hard to ignore the word, given how prominent it has been in the reporting of the terrible, terrible, events in the country we used to call Burma.
By contrast, I’m down in my cool basement now, a place that for most of the year inclines me to wear fingerless wool gloves just so I call feel my digits on the keyboard; now, though, it’s my favorite place in the house: quiet, soothing, and moist—and when I’m ready for it, the Vaporizer just a few steps away.
Not saying I am, but a nap sounds good.
posted by Professor Dave at 4:33 PM
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