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.