Wednesday, July 8, 2020

"It's Not the Heat, It's the Humidity."

A good Decatur friend of ours has contracted a swimming pool company to erect an above ground pool. She messaged my wife this morning indicating that at noon yesterday the pool-crew told the lady they would not be working in the afternoon because the heat index would be too high. I was not shocked with such a comment but I still caught myself shaking my head in disbelief. The heat index yesterday broke the 100-degrees mark.

The 'heat-index' marker was introduced in the early 1980's, and replaced the Temperature-Humidity-Index, which was calculated by adding the air temp and humidity. If the (THI) totaled 150+ then the weatherman told you that you were uncomfortable. I just love how easy my personal thinking has become. I have a meteorologist telling me if I'm too hot (heat index) or too cold (wind chill) and the 24/7 cable news networks telling me how to interpret events and television preachers i.e., Pat Robertson / Kenneth Copeland telling me what God told them to tell me and thus how I should vote.

Back to this "too hot to work" mentality. Central air-conditioning became popular in the 1970's, thus I'm  guessing the median age of those pool workers is around 30, which means they grew up without knowing the comfort  of a 'bed-pallet' by a screened door on a 1950's mid-August night in the muggy Mississippi River valley city of East St. Louis. Also, I'm guessing those fellas never watched a black & white picture-tube television set that pulled in a total of three channels if situated correctly with just the right amount of tinfoil on the rabbit ears antenna. I'm guessing those fellas never drove across country with a family of five in a non-air- conditioned auto. The middle spot in the backseat of that  1950 Bel Air Chevy was brutal!

Personally, I love the heat. Not crazy about humidity but so be it. My generation was conditioned to 'grin-'n-bare-it.' I recall as a 16-year old boy working in summer time St. Louis factories. Once a month a train box car was dropped off beside our factory. Three workers spent two-hours unloading hundreds of 90lbs. lead bricks, which were later to be melted for lead pipe extrusion. The mid-afternoon temperature in that box car topped 128-degrees. Damn! Never thought about telling the foreman that I was going to 'knock off' because of the 'heat index.'

Why goodness, as an 11 & 12 year old baseball Little Leaguer  I played in 90+ degrees temperatures wearing a wool uniform...my generation was conditioned and I suppose that's why this 81-year old could take his 30-minute walk yesterday at 2:00PM with the heat index at 97. It felt good afterwards cooling off on the backyard swing.

Hang tough youngins, hang tough.

Ps. I made another 'heat-related' connection back in those 1950's hotter-than-blazes, non-airconditioning days. I recall one Sunday morning listening to the preacher talk about sin and the fires of hell for the unforgiven. There, I was a lad of 10, sitting in that stifling mid-July heat with a cardboard hand-fan. I looked down at the advertisement printed on that fan and Whoa! Lo' and Behold, "Kurrus Funeral Home."

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