JACOBS: Hot enough for you?

June 28, 2009 10:42 pm

— This heat we’ve been experiencing lately reminds me of the summer of 2000. I was living in Austin at the time, and we went through a couple of months with one of these high pressure thingys which turned Central Texas into a pressure cooker and all the people and animals into wilted carrots and shriveled peas.
On the street corner near my office was a convenience store where a thirsty person could buy a 72-ounce fountain drink for $2. If you bought one of their hard plastic cups, you could refill it for 75 cents.
This is truly a great country, because only in the United States of America could a person could get a half gallon of caffeine-free diet Dr Pepper with extra ice for 75 cents.
That summer, I learned to keep a cold beverage on hand at all times, and tried not to walk the dog too often during the day, for fear she’d burst into a furry little firework.
The heat was stifling and sticky, and it’s this kid of weather that teaches a person new appreciation for the habits of vampires. Dusk and dark are my favorite times of the day lately, with dawn and shortly after dawn running a close second. I cleaned out my car after dark the other day. Here’s the problem with doing yard work or car work after dark: You must have some light or risk hurting yourself. However, light attracts bugs.
I live on a modest hill in northern Navarro County and there aren’t a ton of houses around us, which meant that my car dome light was luring flying things from MILES away. Before I was halfway done, I had to close myself up inside the car like Tippi Hedren at the end of “The Birds.”
The windows of my car were truly awful, crawling with heebie jeebies with long stinger-like tails, and June bugs and moths and all manner of beetles and other things — hundreds of them, striking the glass with their hard little bodies, determined to break through and sit on me.
I’m not afraid of most insects, but even I have my limits as to how many I want crawling on me or getting caught in my hair. For your information, my limit is one, and it’s preferably a polite lady bug.
When I was a kid and I would ride with my grandmother Josephine, or my great Aunt Abbie, they would use tissues to protect their hands from the hot steering wheel. I always thought it was a silly thing to do, although I hope I didn’t criticize them out loud. Once this week I forgot to put up the sunshade thingy or crack the windows and I nearly screamed when I grabbed the wheel. I think I heard Abbie snickerering.
Here’s what’s funny about all this heat: Watching the other people. If they’re coming in from outdoors, they take a deep breath and say “Boy, it’s hot,” or “It’s so hot,” or some variation of the same. I’ve been watching people do it all week, and I’ve even done it myself. What’s funny about this is that everyone already knows it’s hot. It’s not exactly a newsflash. But we still can’t stop ourselves.
The positive side is that when this weather system finally breaks and the pressure cooker lid is loosened and the steam finally escapes, it will be wonderful. I remember that day back in 2000 when the lid lifted, and everyone was suddenly outside, just breathing fresh, non-air-conditioned air again.
One of my Austin neighbors, a man I hadn’t known existed behind his closed blinds, was on his porch that afternoon, strumming a guitar. I was out walking the dog and I smiled at him and said “hey” like friendly folks from Corsicana do, and he looked suspiciously at me and demanded “What?”
In less than a day, we had all lost our vampire ways, if not our vampire manners.
—————
Click here to e-mail Janet Jacobs.
Click here to Soundoff on this column.