Summer Solstice
will occur June 21, 2014. The official first day of summer, except in Alabama.
The old joke down here is that Alabama has two seasons: Summer and February. Spring
was as pollen ridden as I can ever recall. Two steroid shots instead of one had
to get me through the season this year, both equally stinging like a shot of
Louisiana Hot Sauce in the butt. Allergies aside, May and June have actually
been decent, I wouldn’t say pleasant, but decent, with copious amounts of rain.
The weekends have been filled with dueling 4 stroke and 2 stroke motors all
over the neighborhood, cutting grass, edging driveways, weed-eating pesky
dandelions, and manicuring hedges.
I had a late
haircut tonight. I walked out to a friendly night air we call balmy. It is that
warm, happy air that surrounds you and takes you to places like the Gulf Of
Mexico, porch swings, camp sites, night fishing. It even smells friendly. I
suppose those who know Mr. Balmy also get this description, especially when
compared to his evil cousin Humidity.
There are
times in Alabama, usually in July and August that the days are so laden with
heat and humidity, you sometimes wonder if this stuff we inhale (with some difficulty)
has any oxygen composition at all. And while southerners know we will endure this
torture year after year, it is still incredulous that at 9PM, the temperature
will be 90 degrees with stifling humidity.
Air
conditioning sure changed things in the South. Businesses started posting signs
on the doors with a little penguin blowing vapor breath with the words, “Come
on in, it’s COOL inside!” My first memory of this life saving invention is still
clear. During those Ft. Benning/Columbus GA years in the mid 60’s, I played
with reckless abandon; riding my Schwinn Typhoon on pot-holed streets,
exploring the woods with my Daisy BB gun, picking teams for a schoolyard game
of baseball, and sweating. A kid would
sweat those reddish streaky lines, indicating a day mixed with perspiration and
the red clay that constitutes much of the good earth of the Deep South. My
buddies and I seemed to be gone all day, breaking only for a quick PB&J for
lunch. By the time supper rolled around, Ol Humidity caused layers of fine
dusty clay, brought on by one activity after another, more sweat, more dirt.
Mamas greeted these little dirt daubers with, “Boy, go get in the shower NOW!
And soap-up a washcloth!”
Back to air conditioning.
My first encounter was one of those noisy window units, installed in the living
room at my buddy Brad’s home. His family seemed like they were up on all the ‘latest
things’ and even had factory air conditioning in their 66 Chevy Impala. I
thought they were rich, but actually his dad was just like everyone else,
carving out a living as a car salesman at the local Chevy dealer. He was able to drive a demo, I suppose.
The window
unit became our new best friend. After a ball game, we adjusted the vents just
right, some pulled up a few chairs; others sat on the floor and took in this
most glorious substance. I know his mom must have been glad we were all around
10; while we were dirty we lacked the real ‘boy funk’ that would kick in a
few years later. A gaggle of 10 year old boys taking in the cold air was tolerable. A gang of 13 year olds in the same sweaty
state would have caused his mom to shoo us with a broom and a can of Lysol.
Summer in
the South now has us scurrying from one air conditioned box to another via a
smaller air conditioned box on wheels. I am not complaining. But as I age, I am
growing in appreciation for that friendly Mr. Balmy. His cousin Humidity can
return to Hades as far as I am concerned. Until then (November) I will fight
him with every Btu that our system can muster.
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