On Tuesday, as the mercury rose to nearly 98 degrees (F), I was relegated to driving my 1991 Caprice wagon to the post office to mail some manuscripts. In the summer, it is always an interesting treat to drive the wagon, as the electrical components don't work and the air conditioner went the way of the dinosaur back in 2001. There is no way to roll the windows down and there is absolutely no air circulation.
Temperature inside the wagon on Tuesday? A nice, sweltering 112 degrees.
Yes, I drove around in this sucker (it's our most dependable car) and I tried to look professional even as I sported sweat sideburns reminiscent of Elvis at his pudgy best. A few other drivers looked at me and wondered, why are you sweating? Don't you have air?
Well, no. Only two of our cars have air conditioning now, which means that among a family of four, at least two people are going to be unhappy. Dad always draws the short straw. And besides, I'm still losing weight.
I lost five pounds on Tuesday alone.
And I did get my book manuscripts in the mail. They were soaked with my sweat, but fortunately my editor knows me by my scent.
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