I’ve heard people say it’s hot in New York, and burning hot in Germany, and forget about Spain where all heat resides or Morocco where it is unbearable – at the end of the day y’all don’t know heat – New Orleans wrote the book on tropical heat. I always said that New Orleans was like having valium in the ether for me – I don’t need to self medicate because there is a spirit which endures the summer heat but doesn’t have a war cry for it – it’s more like a very sedate yawn.
Summer heat is here in New Orleans – there is no comparison to any other place as far as heat, humidity and a deep seeded love of air conditioning despite any pretense to San Francisco or Nova Scotia weather where people eschew artificial air like it was high fructose corn syrup – here we beg for it.
Tatjana returned from New York and wanted to sit on the porch – I turned the ceiling fans on on the porch and you’d have never known there was wind blowing – it was hot, muggy, sluggish.
Ah summer, if only you could really slow down time as much as we perceive you are doing.