I
used to love the heat.
When
I was a young lad and had a head full of hair and a stomach full of
muscles, it could not get too hot.
Now
that I am at a stage in life where my hair has fallen out and my ab
muscles have been replaced with a layer of ab flab, my summer
attitude has changed as well.
Growing
up, scorching hot summers were just a way of life. It happened every
year and as far as I was concerned, the hotter the better.
I
can remember running around pretty much the entire summer in shorts
and no shirt. No one worried about nasty things like UV rays and
getting too much sun, we just worried about having as much fun in the
sun as we could.
Sunscreen
was used occasionally, but in no time it had all been sweated away.
Nowadays, you can't even look out a window without slathering on SPF
10w30 suntan lotion. The stuff is so thick if you jump in a lake with
it on, the oil slick looks like the Exxon Valdeze passed by.
We
would go from backyard pool to backyard pool – without sunscreen –
for days on end. It was a little swarm of young boys in swimming
trunks descending upon a home where the noise level would go up and
the amount of Kool Aid would go down.
Ahhh,
Kool Aid, what kid did not drink gallons of Kool Aid in the heat of a
summer's day? Red, orange, blue – it all tasted the same, but we
didn't care – it was Kool Aid.
Anyway,
my love affair with the sun carried on for years. All through my teen
years and well into my 20s I adored the sun and the heat it brought
with it.
But
gradually, things began to change.
I
found myself less enamoured with the sun and the blazing rays of
warmth it drenched my part of the world with.
At
first, it was no more than noticing how hot it was that particular
day. Over the years, it progressed from noticing how hot it was to
complaining about how hot it was, to full-fledged whining about how
hot it was.
By
the time the real heat of July and August hit, I found myself to be a
complete and total heat-wave wimp.
“It's
too hot. Why is it so hot? It doesn't need to be this hot. Anything
over 28C is unnecessary and is just Mother Nature showing off. 'Oooo,
I'm Mother Nature, look how hot I can make it.'”
The
older I get, the less I like the blast furnace that is summer in this
region. Of course the older I get, the larger I get as well.
My
body is substantially more enhanced than it was back in the good ol'
days and I am sure that has a lot to do with my lack of joy over the
rising mercury.
I
find these days I look like a decorative water fountain in the heat,
with sweat spewing water out of my pores in every direction.
I
know, not a pretty picture, especially when I exercise in the summer
months. I look like I went swimming with my clothes on after just a
few minutes on the treadmill.
My
new-found aversion to heat makes me really appreciate a loving and
caring God who gave someone the idea to invent air conditioning.
So
if you need me, I will be sitting in my air-conditioned basement,
complaining about how hot it is outside and longing for the days of
my youth.