This heat...
It's been a few days, and while I won't apologize because it doesn't actually matter, I will say that I feel guilty, and that perhaps my edginess over the weekend was in part due to not having written here.
Yesterday, and the day before that, as all Philadelphians will agree, were insanely hot. My hopeful belief that we would spared the heat by the cross ventilation of 14 windows was dashed when by 10 in the morning the studio was already sweltering and the best I could do was lay in front of the fan in my underwear. How did I forget, in those few short months of winter and spring how hot it gets in the city? I have been yearning for summer since at least January, but now I wonder how we will make it out from under the breeze of our one, dusty box fan.
Temperature, or I should say the quest for the perfect one, can take over one's thinking. Much in the same way that early man was consumed in the quest for food, one can also be consumed in the quest for comfort. Now, when we have so many options up and down the thermometer, do we accomplish more? Are the amenities of modern life tools in a zen-like mission to progress? The air conditioner therefore is not so much a comfort for the soft but something that frees another portion of our energy for more lofty endeavors. All the things that I could have done yesterday had we only had air conditioning.
And yet, whenever R in his playful way suggests that we get central air, I scoff. We just can't have air conditioning: we are cut from a different cloth than the rest of the sweaty masses. We will sweat, and we will work through that sweat into a life of righteousness.
Of course, it was I who was rendered immobile by the heat yesterday, not R. While R bandied about, drenched in his clean odorless perspiration, I just lay there, blinking.
I'll work on it though. I have at least another few months to practice being hot.
Yesterday, and the day before that, as all Philadelphians will agree, were insanely hot. My hopeful belief that we would spared the heat by the cross ventilation of 14 windows was dashed when by 10 in the morning the studio was already sweltering and the best I could do was lay in front of the fan in my underwear. How did I forget, in those few short months of winter and spring how hot it gets in the city? I have been yearning for summer since at least January, but now I wonder how we will make it out from under the breeze of our one, dusty box fan.
Temperature, or I should say the quest for the perfect one, can take over one's thinking. Much in the same way that early man was consumed in the quest for food, one can also be consumed in the quest for comfort. Now, when we have so many options up and down the thermometer, do we accomplish more? Are the amenities of modern life tools in a zen-like mission to progress? The air conditioner therefore is not so much a comfort for the soft but something that frees another portion of our energy for more lofty endeavors. All the things that I could have done yesterday had we only had air conditioning.
And yet, whenever R in his playful way suggests that we get central air, I scoff. We just can't have air conditioning: we are cut from a different cloth than the rest of the sweaty masses. We will sweat, and we will work through that sweat into a life of righteousness.
Of course, it was I who was rendered immobile by the heat yesterday, not R. While R bandied about, drenched in his clean odorless perspiration, I just lay there, blinking.
I'll work on it though. I have at least another few months to practice being hot.
posted by beef at 10:52 AM
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