It doesn’t seen like very long since I was complaining about the series of blizzards that hit the DC area this past Winter. Mother Nature: I have noted the weather over the last several weeks, and your sarcasm is not appreciated. I was watching national weather on cable news yesterday with my dad, and they noted that throughout most of the Southeast, South and Great Plains states, people have been enduring record high temperatures for anywhere from 15 to 18 of the first 20 days of this month. I know the scientists tell us that when global temperatures rise a couple of degrees, they threaten ecosystems for a lot of species that help us survive; my immediate concern is my own ecosystem and the fact that I can’t make it from the front door to the sidewalk without doing an admirable impression of a puddle.
Facebook has seen a series of my friends welcoming the first day of summer. Hadn’t you noticed? It’s been summer for weeks, regardless of what the druids say. And since I brought up global warming and Science, let me throw a complicated technical phrase at you: this shit is for the birds. Alison and I spent each recorded about two hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and completely unable to find an equilibrium in temperature at her place. I typically don’t use air conditioning, opting instead for open windows and a fan, but the last week or two have required that I button up my place and spend money on climate control. Today’s forecast: hotter than a snake’s ass in a wagon rut. I tried opening the windows and pulling a cross-breeze, and melted like a Nazi staring at the Ark of the Covenant.
I understand that Washington, DC is a city built on a swamp. I understand that August is going to be interminable every year. JUNE is supposed to be great, though. This is Springtime. This is not supposed to be the month that I couldn’t keep my kids at Walney Pond for more than half an hour yesterday without the pond threatening to evaporate and the mulch trails so hot you could barely walk on them even with shoes on. The sun isn’t supposed to be pounding down through ceililngs and walls yet. The glue holding up the cabinets in my kitchen are not supposed to be letting go. This region is not supposed to be that place, at least not yet.
Clearly, I haven’t addressed global warming in any real sense here, although that sounds like an interesting topic for a post soon. Waxing more philosophical, though, I’m starting to wonder which of Dante’s nine rings of Hell is the Beltway.