Hot! Hot! Hot!
The first time I remember hearing this song I was somewhere near Sitka. Men in shiny gold pants were singing and dancing to Hot! Hot! Hot! I think that was the night they set the desert on fire.
This 3 minute clip (from You Tube, not from the flaming desert night) isn’t exactly lyric rich. You’ll get the idea after the first 30 seconds.
Hot! Hot! Hot! sounded so much more appealing on a climate controlled cruise ship to Alaska than it does in Smiley, Texas where every day is a hundred and something. Yes, I do know y’all have it worse down south and over west and maybe even up north. But for a Yankee who has rarely ever experienced triple digit heat – maybe one or two days per summer, this seems pretty toasty.
You know the ban on laser pointers near airports?
You may be arrested
Laser users are frequently arrested for aiming at airplanes or helicopters. And as authorities take laser incidents more seriously, they are putting more effort into finding perpetrators:
Photo-illustration from BBC News article
I get that now. The sun comes up in the east here, just like it back home. But here it comes up like a giant laser pointer (a red one, not the green kind), targeting Texas. My little point and shoot camera doesn’t do it justice. The sun doesn’t rise up with a soft orange glow, slowly spreading it’s light and warmth. It races up, bright red and instantly, insanely, intense.
At first I thought it was apocalyptic. Now I get that that’s just the way it is in Texas.
We’ve reached the point in the summer where most folks down here have gotten tired of talking about the weather, except the weatherman, who has to and who says the same thing every day. I misspoke a few posts ago by quoting a San Antonio’s weatherman. Apparently, here in Smiley we’re going on day 55 of triple digit heat.
It does give us all a healthy, if semi-radioactive looking, glow. Three minutes outside and my face takes on a cheery hue. Every where my t-shirt touches my body has a suspicious dark cast. That’s partially due to the ice cubes I occasionally put down my shirt, but mostly I manage to spot and blot all on my own.
When I get significantly overheated, I talk to myself, out loud (not good) saying things like:
I’m so hot I feel sick at my stomach.
Really? Sick at my stomach?
Sick of my stomach. Well, yes.
Or maybe sick in my stomach? Sometimes I say sick to which doesn’t really make sense either. But sick at my stomach? I can be mad at something, but can I be sick at something?
When the rancher asked me how I was handling the heat, I said just swell (looking at my ankles). He said it gives a lot of folks a headache. Well, there is that. I’ve had one for so long I forgot that my head used to feel un-achy. He offered a cure.
This is a cow aspirin – which might have cured my headache, but I suspect would have led to other discomforts. The worst part is, I think I’m beginning to acclimate. I just checked the 7 day forecast: 102-103 each day, and I found myself feeling happy, thinking: Only 103, that’s not bad! Sad…
If you can’t take the heat, don’t tickle the dragon. ~ Caroline Schoeder