The Heat Is On - And I Hate It!

Its 86 degrees at the lake and I’m sitting, sweating, and swearing.  I’m miserable. That’s because 86 degrees is the indoor temperature.  You see, on one of the hottest,  humid streaks of summer imaginable, the air conditioner in my little house has decided to quit cooling. And the fans and portable AC unit I’m running ain’t helping a lot.  What’s worse, I suppose my heating and cooling guy has decided I have leprosy - he’s barely returning my calls and texts.  In fact, when I finally talked to him he told me he couldn’t make it  because he had to go to a funeral home that had AC problems.  I’m not sure who complained, but I guess someone at a visitation must’ve said it was hotter than hell and upset the deceased’s family. 

As I lay in an ever expanding pool of sweat, I begin to wonder about all of us.  We have become soft. I was almost out of high school before we had air conditioning in my house, and we somehow managed.  Usually it was early June when my father would pull out a giant fan that sat on a homemade wooden stand.  It had no back!  The blades were totally exposed.  It’s a good thing I didn’t sleepwalk or I would have lost several fingers.  This propeller of death was strategically placed in our hallway.   Once we opened the rear windows in the house, Dad hit the button and it roared to life, making a sound that was about as loud as a Cessna airplane.  That was some of the loudest white noise I’ve ever heard.  The fan pulled the cooler outside air inside, along with loose paint chips off the wall.

I was telling this story to someone last night and they said, “Well, I know what I would do.  I would be checking in a hotel ASAP.”   That’s my point. What was once considered normal, even if it was uncomfortable, has now become unbearable.   

It not just homes.  For example, if someone told you they had an automobile without AC, you would look at them like they had just described a personal alien abduction.  But when I was a child we never had air conditioned cars, unless you count the 470 AC every automobile had.  That’s 4 windows rolled down while you’re going 70 miles an hour. What’s worse is our car had black vinyl seats; it was like riding in an air fryer. If I was wearing shorts, then the back of my legs got a chemical peel without the chemicals.  

Looking back it’s hard to believe that every summer my Dad would pack a 1963 Chevy Impala with no cold air and drive to Panama City.  That was the real reason we left at 4 AM - to beat the heat.  My wife easily one upped me;  in July of 1959 their family loaded 6 people into an hot Chevrolet and drove to New York!  Nowadays I won’t get in a hot car to drive to Wal Mart. 

There was only one foolproof way to get summertime heat relief back then - a movie theatre.  They even advertised the fact they had air conditioning!  Forget how bad the movie was, you were cool for a couple of precious hours.  

When you finally got air conditioning in your house it was probably a window unit that made so much noise you couldn’t hear the TV.  And since it only cooled part of the house, you closed off the rooms you weren’t using.  I remember opening the door to my grandmother’s bathroom and being met with a giant blast of heat. Once I even scorched my butt when I sat on the toilet. It was a black seat, by the way. 

Eventually, Dad sprung for central air, and when Mom’s next car had AC, the ordeal finally ended.  We joined millions of other people on a journey to a softer, more comfortable life. I noted that it happened about the same time I was leaving for college. Nice timing by my parents. 

Right now my fingers are so damp from sweat that I have to stop typing. I need to hydrate, and then somehow convince my AC guy that if he doesn’t move my little house to the top of his service list, soon he may be visiting another place with dead people inside. . 

Find more of my stories visit my blog: https://mylifeasahobby.blogspot.com/?m=1. Also, follow me on Facebook at: Joe Hobby Comedian- Writer.