It is reality.
It has been ridiculously hot for over a week now. Almost a week straight of 90+ degree temps in the first week of June? I am officially declaring a heat wave. I am tempted to update the Wikipedia entry for heat wave to include the past week.
**As an aside, while reading the Wikipedia entry for heat wave, I came across the entry for Dog Days. It turns out I have been mistaken as to what Dog Days means for my entire life. I should know better than to try to learn colloquialisms from observing my family's usage of a term. The only time I ever heard the phrase used was when I was told I could not swim in the creek because it was Dog Days. During "Dog Days", the creek was mossy, stagnant, and gross-looking. I always assumed Dog Days referred to the grossness of the water, and I couldn't swim because the creek was gross. I figured it meant "only dogs would swim in that" or "you'll get sick as a dog if you swim in that." Something along those lines. I realize now that the creek was gross during actual Dog Days, so it's almost impossible to know if my family was using the term correctly to refer to the hottest days of summer or was using it to refer to the unswimability of the creek. I'm calling my mother tonight to ask her what she thinks Dog Days means!**
Back to the topic at hand: it's hot. Everyone who lives in the Midwestern or Southern United States knows it's really, incredibly hot right now... this is not news, and I am not here to complain about the heat. Everyone is hot. Of course I'm hot... but what is bothering me today is my view on the heat. As with many things, I think it is yet another sign that I am getting older.
Throughout middle school, high school, college, and even law school, I loathed the heat. I hated going outside if it was over 85 degrees, unless it was to swim. I hated sweating, I hated feeling hot, and I just felt miserable in the heat. I couldn't understand how people lived without air conditioning in the "olden days" (though I didn't have A/C in my Chicago apartment... but... that's Chicago). Movies like Gone With the Wind made living in the South in the 1800s look so glamorous... but, when I thought of how hot it would be to wear all those layers of dresses, I decided it would be terrible to live in the 1800s, no matter how rich you were. Six Flags on a hot day was about the most miserable I can remember being in my life. Waiting in line in 98 degree, sunny weather? Pure torture. In middle school, my mom tried to make me go outside during the day on summer breaks. I used all the excuses I could think of to stay inside. Heat advisories were my best friend. If there was a heat advisory in effect, I would at least have a well-supported argument for not going outside. Once I reached high school, I think she eventually gave up on trying to make me go out in the heat and accepted my aversion to heat.
The last couple of years, however, I've started to become more and more comfortable with heat. I still get hot, but I never feel as miserable as I used to. I am not sure if this is due to simply having a higher tolerance for being uncomfortable, or if it actually feels less uncomfortable. Whatever the cause, I simply don't notice the heat as much as I used to; I daresay I even sometimes enjoy the heat. When looking at colleges, I actually designated a line across the US, saying I would not go anywhere south of that line for college because it would be too hot. I could have applied to Tulane for free, but wouldn't even consider it (kind of glad now, actually, since Katrina hit while I was in college!). Now, however, I have no qualms about going outside and doing something when it's 90+ degrees - I'll grill, do yardwork, hang out with friends, go for a walk, roll the windows down in my car and turn off the A/C... all things I never would have even considered doing a mere 3 years ago.
Such a thing as "too hot" still exists, but oftentimes I find that I enjoy the feeling of the hot, thick summer air. Last summer, I vacationed in Savannah in June, and it was in the high 90s the entire time. A lot of the time, we were outside or in a place with no air conditioning, but the heat didn't slow me down. It was definitely very hot, and I still couldn't comfortably do anything between 1 and 3pm... but it usually wasn't insufferable to me. I enjoyed walking around Savannah in the 95 degree heat. This is an inadequate description, but somehow, it felt more like "real life" to me. I'm not sure how else to put it. Something about forgoing the modern convenience of temperature control made me feel more relaxed and alive. It seems that the more immersed I get in technology and convenience, the more I feel that I need to get away from it to feel like myself. Perhaps it is being an adult that has led me to this conclusion. An adult that doesn't mind the heat because it makes her feel real and alive...
...And old. When I think of a hot, muggy day, I think of my Grandpa refusing to turn on the A/C until the 4th of July, and even then only turning it on because my Grandma insisted that it had to be turned on for company. Grandpa spent most of his time outside, his leathered deeply-tanned skin showing his love for the heat and the outdoors. He was always on his lawn mower, in his garden, walking his dog... in bluejeans and suspenders, with no shirt. His refusal to turn on the A/C was almost unbearable once the temperature outside reached above 85. My mom explained to me that "old people" are always cold and want it hot all the time (or some of them are just too cheap to pay that high electric bill...). So I am now left wondering if my tolerance for the heat has increased because I'm "older." I'm almost positive that is the reason, but why age is the culprit is something that perplexes me.
Perhaps my perspective has shifted enough that I do not see the heat as that large of an annoyance in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps I have experienced enough pain in life that my tolerance for discomfort has increased. Perhaps I have matured enough to not complain about things I cannot change. Or perhaps, as we get older, we cling more to the things of childhood. We long to go back to a time when you never noticed the level of the mercury, but instead lost track of time playing outside all day - chasing butterflies, climbing trees, running through sprinklers, riding your bicycle, going on adventures. When heat meant that you got to go outside, not that you had to. I like to think that this last "perhaps" is the answer. The others sound too stoic and somewhat depressing. Maybe I just want to believe that it is the child in me that is resurfacing, and not the old woman that is emerging. Maybe it is what I want to believe... but that doesn't mean it can't be true.
Sometimes, I think the best part of getting older is simply allowing yourself to be young again.
I talked to my mom... and she thought Dog Days meant when the creek was stagnant and mossy. So, it is not my fault that I didn't know the real meaning! I feel vindicated! She said that's the "country people" meaning, LOL.
ReplyDeleteThat's so funny! At least now you know where you got it!!
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