January 18, 2008
We're getting there
Originally published June 8, 2003
Summers in Georgia are hot.
My parents never put an air conditioner in their house until after I moved out. I remember many a night when I crawled out of the puddle of sweat in my bed and slept on the tile floor of my bedroom to get some relief from the oppressive heat and humidity. I sweat like a car wash to this day.
YOU KNOW YOU ARE IN Georgia in the SUMMER when...
*The birds have to use potholders to pull worms out of the ground.
*The trees are whistling for the dogs.
*The best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
*Hot water now comes out of both taps.
*You can make sun tea instantly.
*You learn that a seat belt buckle makes a pretty good branding iron.
*The temperature drops below 95 and you feel a little chilly.
*You discover that in July it only takes 2 fingers to steer your car.
*You discover that you can get sunburned through your car window.
*You actually burn your hand opening the car door.
*You break into a sweat the instant you step outside at 7:30 a.m.
*Your biggest bicycle wreck fear is, "What if I get knocked out and end up lying on the pavement and cook to death?"
*You realize that asphalt has a liquid state.
*The potatoes cook underground, so all you have to do is pull one out and add
butter, salt and pepper.
*Farmers are feeding their chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying boiled eggs.
*The cows are giving evaporated milk.
Yeah, you piss steam, too.
But I would rather sweat than shiver any day.
[Ed. Amen, A-man.]