This particular Monday finds us dealing without air conditioning at the house. It appears the compressor went out Friday night, so all we’ve had is one little window unit to cool one room. For the rest of the house, there are just some fans and open windows. My truck’s a/c is also on the fritz, so here I am nearing mid-August in somehat less comfort than anticipated. We got a taste of this after Tropical Storm Cindy, when the power was out for three days. But don’t misread this as complaining.

Actually, it’s all been making me think of how things were in this city, say, 75 or 100 years ago. As late as the 1950s, those Kool cigarette signs that said, “It’s Koooooooool inside” really meant something. A slow-turning ceiling fan was appreciated and de rigeur in any business, and perspiration was more or less expected to be evident on anyone at any given time. You’d open one of those old Coke machines (the ones with the cold water in them) and leave your hand in the water an extra couple of seconds because it felt so damn good.

Then you have to figure these kinds of things at least assumed a place had electric power and window screens. Prior to that, not much to do but keep the windows open and pray for the rare breeze.

As it is, we’re adjusting. If this is as bad as it gets. it ain’t bad at all.

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