The heat’s taken its toll. It’s been unrelenting – brutal. The greenery looks weary. The grass dries and turns brown within hours of any moisture. My car thermometer regularly reads around 110 and I saw online that it feels much hotter. We need a break. We need relief. My dog looks at me and says, “No way I’m walking on that street. That street will burn my feet right off,” and she’s right.
It's affecting us mentally. We’re budding on crazy. It’s cooked our brains. Recent headlines are all you need to see. A lady in Birmingham faked her own abduction. She was missing for a few days before she showed up again. I don’t think anyone knows where she was. I’m betting she found some air conditioning and was just sitting in it. “Let people look for me, let the donations pile up,” she thought. “That’s fine. At least I’m cool.” Lady, I get it.
Down here in Mobile we’ve had a fully adult Roman Catholic priest head off to Europe with an 18-year-old female high schooler just after her graduation. Reports say they’d been together for a while but I’m sure the heat accelerated things - cooked their brains, especially his. Those priests wear those heavy vestments and garments and such – no way to stay cool under all that, and black clothes with those closed priest collars? He’s made a heat related mistake, and the archbishop has defrocked him, un-priested him. I’m guessing Mr. Romeo Priest may be a bit upset now that’s he’s come to but he’s happy to get into some cooler clothes.
As I write this, it’s the hottest day of the year so far here in Mobile. As I look online right now, it says it feels like 116 degrees outside. Meaning my car probably reads 125 or so. It’s brutal. It’s the seventh layer of Dante’s Inferno. When I get home, I’m going to watch on TV what crazy things the cooked brains in our city did today. Someone misbehaved. Someone surely snapped-can’t wait to see who.
As for me, I’m going to stay right here lying down in my underwear on this cool tile floor, feeling the wash of cold air flow over me each time the refrigerator door opens above me, wondering what the camera crew is doing here and why the convenience store clerk keeps pointing at me.
I’m Cam Marston, and I’m just trying to Keep It Real.
