The Heat Wave Post Mortem
Boy was it hot last week. It made me think of one of my favorite movie quotes:
"Man it's hot. It's like Africa hot. Tarzan couldn't take this kind of hot."
- Eugene Morris Jerome, Biloxi Blues
I walk to work so changes in weather profoundly affect my day. And let me put it this way - I'm not one of those people who doesn't sweat.
I will say that the week of heat made me appreciate working at my company, because even though sometimes people think I work at a movie theater chain, at least I don't work for Con Ed - they took A LOT of flak. Sometimes it sucks to have a monopoly I guess. I'm not quite sure why no one is blaming the actual cause of the oppressive spike in temperatures - our own government (An Inconvenient Truth really stayed with me). Actually, working at my office last week was kind of a bummer, given that the facilities people decided to conform to the Con Ed mandate to keep the A/C in the building at 78 degrees. I think air-conditioning set at 78 degrees is an oxymoron. And I'm not sure why I had to be melting at my desk while people riding the escalator at Filene's Basement were treated to a frigid loveliness (don't ask how or why I know that).
The bravest thing I did last week, and it might be the bravest thing I've done in a while, was go to Brooklyn on arguably the hottest day (Wednesday - circa 100 degrees) for a Doubleheader Pizza Taste Test. This involved multiple subways and balmy subway platforms (including the elusive F train) and eating a lot of pizza in two barely air-conditioned restaurants. At the first venue, we were seated right next to the giant brick oven, which seemed oddly poetic, given that the entire city felt like an open oven (shout out Sylvia Plath). That wasn't funny. I think the heat (and my probable dehydration due to the heat) also made me get tipsy faster which in turn made me feel even hotter, though I still managed to consume an admirable amount of pizza. I think the moral of the story is, no matter how hot it is, or how much I'm sweating, I'll still travel for food and I'll still eat. (On another day last week I made a daring run to the Burger Joint under the assumption that if there was a black out, at least I'd be in a hotel and have fries in my tummy). Apparently I did not inherit this food-despite-crazy-temperatures gene, for when I was with my Mom this weekend, she just watched in horror as I downed Huevos Rancheros (she sipped a lemonade for she was "too hot to eat").
If I was a narcissist, I'd say that God made it so ridiculously hot to see if I would still not wear tank tops in public (the answer - a lucky few strangers got to see me in a tank top outside to and fro my destinations). I also realized that my love (obsession?) for jeans has its limitations. For on another recent night, I wore jeans to an outdoor movie in DUMBO and thought to myself as I walked out of the subway - wow, you are a fucking idiot with no learning curve. So I purchased some more non-jean pants and I'm happy with them - I think they're called clamdiggers, how cute.
I wonder if it was also really hot on the West Coast last week. Maybe that's why Mel Gibson went crazy. Maybe the anti-Semitism was brewing up inside him and all it took was a hot cup of Jaeger under the hot sun to unleash it. There's been talk that a Mel Gibson boycott or ban is against what we Jews stand for given that we've been boycotted and banned throughout history. But I think you guys can probably guess where I stand on that one - I love a boycott, a ban, a grudge, what have you. The truth is, whether or not Mel Gibson verbalized that he blames "the Jews for all the wars in the world," I still wasn't going to see that freakfest Apocalypto. Nor do I have any regrets about not seeing The Passion of the Christ. Nor will I see Lethal Weapon 9 when it comes out. Mostly because I have no desire to see any of these movies. But also because no, I am not going to support a misogynist anti-Semite with more kids than brain cells. I do feel somewhat bad for the guy - how stupid to mess with Jews - we accomplished the American Dream and it's called Hollywood.
But the heat wave is finally over. I don't miss it. Though my ankles are a bit chilly in my clamdiggers (the A/C in my office is very much back on). And if it wasn't for the blazing sun, I probably wouldn't have dunked all the way into the ocean when I went to Jones Beach with my Pops this past Friday. And I wouldn't have this gorgeous tan (just kidding, people still walk by me and hold their arms out next to mine to show their friends how tan they are in comparison). It was a crazy week, that's for sure. I'm glad we're back to "normal" - it's only 85 degrees today (shout out melting Polar ice caps!)
Random Tidbit:
My father unwittingly gave me a great birthday present last night - he subtly slapped some cab fare into my hand as I was leaving the Country House and when I got into the taxi, I realized he'd given me THREE 5-dollar bills! Oh how I love them.
Random Quotes (all courtesy of my friend and co-worker Liz):
"That is the second time I was hit with dumb juice today."
"She was sitting there in her 'I hate the world, I love MySpace' kind of way."
"The entire city smells like pizza."
"Man it's hot. It's like Africa hot. Tarzan couldn't take this kind of hot."
- Eugene Morris Jerome, Biloxi Blues
I walk to work so changes in weather profoundly affect my day. And let me put it this way - I'm not one of those people who doesn't sweat.
I will say that the week of heat made me appreciate working at my company, because even though sometimes people think I work at a movie theater chain, at least I don't work for Con Ed - they took A LOT of flak. Sometimes it sucks to have a monopoly I guess. I'm not quite sure why no one is blaming the actual cause of the oppressive spike in temperatures - our own government (An Inconvenient Truth really stayed with me). Actually, working at my office last week was kind of a bummer, given that the facilities people decided to conform to the Con Ed mandate to keep the A/C in the building at 78 degrees. I think air-conditioning set at 78 degrees is an oxymoron. And I'm not sure why I had to be melting at my desk while people riding the escalator at Filene's Basement were treated to a frigid loveliness (don't ask how or why I know that).
The bravest thing I did last week, and it might be the bravest thing I've done in a while, was go to Brooklyn on arguably the hottest day (Wednesday - circa 100 degrees) for a Doubleheader Pizza Taste Test. This involved multiple subways and balmy subway platforms (including the elusive F train) and eating a lot of pizza in two barely air-conditioned restaurants. At the first venue, we were seated right next to the giant brick oven, which seemed oddly poetic, given that the entire city felt like an open oven (shout out Sylvia Plath). That wasn't funny. I think the heat (and my probable dehydration due to the heat) also made me get tipsy faster which in turn made me feel even hotter, though I still managed to consume an admirable amount of pizza. I think the moral of the story is, no matter how hot it is, or how much I'm sweating, I'll still travel for food and I'll still eat. (On another day last week I made a daring run to the Burger Joint under the assumption that if there was a black out, at least I'd be in a hotel and have fries in my tummy). Apparently I did not inherit this food-despite-crazy-temperatures gene, for when I was with my Mom this weekend, she just watched in horror as I downed Huevos Rancheros (she sipped a lemonade for she was "too hot to eat").
If I was a narcissist, I'd say that God made it so ridiculously hot to see if I would still not wear tank tops in public (the answer - a lucky few strangers got to see me in a tank top outside to and fro my destinations). I also realized that my love (obsession?) for jeans has its limitations. For on another recent night, I wore jeans to an outdoor movie in DUMBO and thought to myself as I walked out of the subway - wow, you are a fucking idiot with no learning curve. So I purchased some more non-jean pants and I'm happy with them - I think they're called clamdiggers, how cute.
I wonder if it was also really hot on the West Coast last week. Maybe that's why Mel Gibson went crazy. Maybe the anti-Semitism was brewing up inside him and all it took was a hot cup of Jaeger under the hot sun to unleash it. There's been talk that a Mel Gibson boycott or ban is against what we Jews stand for given that we've been boycotted and banned throughout history. But I think you guys can probably guess where I stand on that one - I love a boycott, a ban, a grudge, what have you. The truth is, whether or not Mel Gibson verbalized that he blames "the Jews for all the wars in the world," I still wasn't going to see that freakfest Apocalypto. Nor do I have any regrets about not seeing The Passion of the Christ. Nor will I see Lethal Weapon 9 when it comes out. Mostly because I have no desire to see any of these movies. But also because no, I am not going to support a misogynist anti-Semite with more kids than brain cells. I do feel somewhat bad for the guy - how stupid to mess with Jews - we accomplished the American Dream and it's called Hollywood.
But the heat wave is finally over. I don't miss it. Though my ankles are a bit chilly in my clamdiggers (the A/C in my office is very much back on). And if it wasn't for the blazing sun, I probably wouldn't have dunked all the way into the ocean when I went to Jones Beach with my Pops this past Friday. And I wouldn't have this gorgeous tan (just kidding, people still walk by me and hold their arms out next to mine to show their friends how tan they are in comparison). It was a crazy week, that's for sure. I'm glad we're back to "normal" - it's only 85 degrees today (shout out melting Polar ice caps!)
Random Tidbit:
My father unwittingly gave me a great birthday present last night - he subtly slapped some cab fare into my hand as I was leaving the Country House and when I got into the taxi, I realized he'd given me THREE 5-dollar bills! Oh how I love them.
Random Quotes (all courtesy of my friend and co-worker Liz):
"That is the second time I was hit with dumb juice today."
"She was sitting there in her 'I hate the world, I love MySpace' kind of way."
"The entire city smells like pizza."
posted by Susan Goldberg at 2:45 PM
<< Home