It's Not The Heat....

I hope everyone enjoyed the holiday weekend. I tried my best to have a good time, but Mother nature was doing her best to mess me up.

One of the "joys" of living in the Midwest is humidity. If you're not familiar with the concept, drop to your knees right now and thank whatever higher power you believe in. There are times when the air is so heavy with moisture that you feel like someone threw a wet blanket over you. This weekend, the temperature climbed to over 90. That would be great for a long weekend. Sunny skies, warm temps, a nice breeze. No chance. The humidity was also over 90 percent.

As I told you Friday we were going to Irish Fest on Saturday. Under the best conditions these things are festivals of bad hygiene. Nothing turns the stomach faster than having to use a port-a-potty that has been baking on the black top for hours. Now add in breath stifling humidity and you have a toxic sauna that makes you wish you had a bag on your hip. The fest was everything I could have hoped for. Lots of great music and beer, and the people didn't let me down. There were tons of bad tattoos, shorts that should have been retired years ago and carneys that looked like they had just convinced the parole board that they wouldn't burn down any more schools.

Back to the humidity. It was so bad the last couple of days that you burst out sweating the minute you went outside. I was doing some work in the yard, and after about thirty seconds there was so much sweat flowing off me that I looked like Albert Brooks in "Broadcast News". I swear, people were creating so many personal drippings that they were making their own gravy. I had so many salt stains on my shirt that deer were licking me. You get the picture, as disgusting as it is. One of my neighbors jokingly said that I should be used to the heat, seeing as we moved from California. After I wrung my shirt out over her head, I explained that there really is a difference between our sauna and "dry heat". Dry heat is like an oven, but you can bare it. This weather is, to quote Matthew Broderick in "Biloxi Blues", "Africa hot".

I don't even want to start on the horrible mosquitoes. That's whining for another post. I have a feeling I'll either be spending most of the Summer in the air conditioned comfort of my dark basement, or I'll melt away to a shadow of my current self. Either way, you'll hear about it. Remember to hydrate! Later...Brian