Strange Complaints

There is something beautiful about an Arkansas summer. Just the way the birds burst into flame on the branch if they stay still too long can really make you appreciate the beauty in nature.. as you gasp and fall to the ground twitching from heat stroke.

Sure the normally green grass has shriveled itself into the same dusky colors as the backside of Mr. Snuffleupagus from Sesame Street™, but once you’re out there in your back yard you’ll barely even notice it thanks to the sudden urge to fall to the ground as you walk into one of the 985 holes your dogs have dug.

Oh, are your dogs not digging down into your yard as if they are trying to excavate their own bunker to protect them from the scalding fury of the sun?

Mine are.

Sure they may try to pass it off as holes dug to ferret out frogs or other small bugs, but I’m pretty sure animals can sense something is wrong with Mother Nature these days.

There’s NO NEED for the kind of heat we’ve been experiencing here on the Grand Prairie. None. At no point should I have to use a timer to limit my dogs AND MYSELF to five minutes of outside time at any one time so that we don’t hyperventilate ourselves out of this world and into the next.

Granted, odds are the afterlife - even the one down below - has a good chance of having a lower heat index than we’ve had over the past thirty days so who knows if playing it safe is playing it smart in the long run?

Some of our neighbors have an above ground swimming pool that I’ll catch myself eyeballing as I drive past. At some point when they’re not home I’m going to take my two dogs and we’re going to cannonball our way into that thing just to experience being drenched in ways that DO NOT INVOLVE SWEAT.

If they’ve noticed me eyeballing them, sorry. A fat man and his pack of fat dogs can dream but rest assured we are way too fat and nonathletic to hop into a kiddie pool much less something that has a ladder.

What’s weird is that I used to love summers. Growing up in South Louisiana we were always outside, riding bikes or netting crawfish in ditches to use as bait to go fishing. There were days we’d be outside nonstop from early morning until the sun went down and never once did we lose anyone due to heatstroke or spontaneous combustion.

I mean, sure I almost died that time we tried to jump a ramp during the big flood in October of 1984 but that’s because we were having so much fun I forgot I couldn’t swim and suddenly found myself in a few feet of water trapped under my bike. BMX handles are cool and all unless they’re pinning you down in the bottom of a muddy ditch.

Quick side story: That October we had about 12-14 inches of rain in less than a day so the water down our entire block reached the top of our concrete steps and wasn’t very far from coming into the house. My old man wanted to go to town, however, and his work truck was high enough off the ground to get through the water.

Getting into his truck he backed it up to the steps for me so that I could just climb into the bed of the truck without getting wet. Being 13 or so my brain didn’t WORK THAT WAY so I jumped down into the water and OPENED THE PASSENGER DOOR to get in…

My dad was ever so colorful in telling me what he thought of that decision. Ever. So. Colorful.

Anyways, Summers used to be spent out on the river all day or riding bikes with cousins and friends all day, not dodging certain death from the sky and desperately drinking a gallon of water per day just to stay alive.

Makes me wonder how kids NOW are going to think about these temperatures some 40+ years from now?

“Remember when we could go outside without having to wear a sunsuit and non-flammable shoes?”

Just.. take care of yourself and stay safe, okay?

Until later…