By The Wiz
‘Tis the season. The smell of sunscreen permeates everything around us. The flip-flops are being evaluated to see if they can make it one more year. The ceiling fans begin their workouts. And I begin to carry a sweater everywhere I go.
We are supposed to see our first 100 degree temp of the year today. And as the temperature rises, the a/c’s get cranked up, and I get frozen out of every building I go into. Short errands, no problem. But if I have to spend any amount of time in a building that’s blowing cold air at me from every angle, I start believing that every vent is out to get me, and I can’t imagine that I am the only one freezing my tuckus off in the middle of summer.
But then I look around, and people are standing under the vents, welcoming the cold air like a gift from God, and I am forced to reevaluate that position.
I think I, and quite possibly my daughter, really are the only ones who freeze indoors in the summer.
I love the warm nights of summer. Heaven will be FULL of warm nights in my section of the galaxy, but overzealous air conditioners will be banned. BANNED, I tell you!
You know how old people’s houses are always hot, and everybody sweats when they go over there? I love that. I’m always comfortable. So when I’m old, you’ll have to be really altruistic to come visit me, because I’m keeping the thermostat at 90, baby.