Although I have been living here in the East for a year, I'm still
surprised how intense the humidity can get. In the summer the air is
almost a solid. At the very least it is a kind of thick liquid, like
the oxygen you normally experience has been replaced with some sort of
clear hair gel. California has extra light air, the Midwest has average
air, and the East Coast has something made by Vidal Sassoon. "Today's
air quality: Firm Hold." I've eaten Jell-O molds that were less dense
than the air out here.
And yet, there is something comforting about it. It's like a big soft blanket, like my grandma knitted an atmosphere.
"Do you need to borrow a jacket?"
"No thanks. I brought my humidity."
And the grandmother reference isn't that far off. My mom and I used to spend every August with my grandparents in upstate New York. So the humidity brings back some nice childhood memories and the occasional sweat stains. To me, humidity is a symbol of fun, family, days with no schedules, and stores cold enough to preserve dead fish.
In an effort to combat the heat and humidity of summer, a number of establishments in the East set their thermostats to "Antarctica." For some reason they like an ambiance that you would not describe as "comfortable" or even "a little cool", but more like "a numbness in your extremities." It's the middle of July and you will be in a restaurant freezing to death. You're ordering spicy shrimp with hot coffee. You offer the waiter an extra $20 if he will let you set fire to the table.
Movie theaters are the same way. They should hand out those emergency survival suits they give to Alaskan fishermen. It's not that I want to watch a film while in a sauna. I just think the air conditioning should not be so powerful that it slows my heart rate to the point where it's a cryogenics experiment.
"When science discovers a cure for your disease, we will thaw you out and bring you back to life."
"All I said was that I had a receding hairline."
If I ever met someone who was training to hike Everest, I would suggest that he or she first try climbing to the top row of seats during the matinee. It's not that steep, but the rapidly dropping temperature is a good test of your equipment, your resolve, and your willingness to continue even when a limb snaps off. The snack bar should offer popcorn, M&Ms, and rentals of Sherpa guides.
And after spending a couple of hours in places like those, you welcome the humidity when you finally get outside. It's the warmest, most comforting hair gel you have ever inhaled in your life.
And yet, there is something comforting about it. It's like a big soft blanket, like my grandma knitted an atmosphere.
"Do you need to borrow a jacket?"
"No thanks. I brought my humidity."
And the grandmother reference isn't that far off. My mom and I used to spend every August with my grandparents in upstate New York. So the humidity brings back some nice childhood memories and the occasional sweat stains. To me, humidity is a symbol of fun, family, days with no schedules, and stores cold enough to preserve dead fish.
In an effort to combat the heat and humidity of summer, a number of establishments in the East set their thermostats to "Antarctica." For some reason they like an ambiance that you would not describe as "comfortable" or even "a little cool", but more like "a numbness in your extremities." It's the middle of July and you will be in a restaurant freezing to death. You're ordering spicy shrimp with hot coffee. You offer the waiter an extra $20 if he will let you set fire to the table.
Movie theaters are the same way. They should hand out those emergency survival suits they give to Alaskan fishermen. It's not that I want to watch a film while in a sauna. I just think the air conditioning should not be so powerful that it slows my heart rate to the point where it's a cryogenics experiment.
"When science discovers a cure for your disease, we will thaw you out and bring you back to life."
"All I said was that I had a receding hairline."
If I ever met someone who was training to hike Everest, I would suggest that he or she first try climbing to the top row of seats during the matinee. It's not that steep, but the rapidly dropping temperature is a good test of your equipment, your resolve, and your willingness to continue even when a limb snaps off. The snack bar should offer popcorn, M&Ms, and rentals of Sherpa guides.
And after spending a couple of hours in places like those, you welcome the humidity when you finally get outside. It's the warmest, most comforting hair gel you have ever inhaled in your life.
