In Praise of Autumn
7 SepThe Fan Theory
3 JunI need to figure out my dad’s fan theory.
Growing up, we had a few rules. One was no light of any kind allowed. Two was no people over ever. And three was obey the fan theory.
I never really understood the intricacies of the fan theory but it had something to do with the careful balance of the number of fans in each window, the choice of windows that were open, and the location of the sun in the sky. The algorithm is complicated somewhat with the addition of 2-way window fans, which featured both an ‘in’ and an ‘out’ switch. One could have the fan blowing in four different combinations and I was never quite sure which was appropriate for the time of day and depending on which windows were open on the 2nd floor.
But now that I’m all grown up and grumpy myself, I am attempting to endure the summer of 2011 without my AC again. Given that this summer is significantly hotter than the last (as chronicled in my sweaty, complaining post yesterday), I’m going to need some kind of old-school game plan to battle the heat and I’m thinking perhaps it’s time to return to my roots. I don’t know if dad’s fan theory ever made any of us cooler. There’s a big chance that it was just a way for him to amuse himself and bark for us to run up and down the stairs, making fine adjustments to the angles of upright fans and closing windows with the urgency one musters in the face of a monsoon.
But I’m willing to try it anyway.
Because by golly I’m warm and I don’t want to lug that money-sucking, rattling, dripping, 100-pound air conditioner up and secure it in the window. The fan theory will have to do.
I don’t think I have enough fans for the algorithm to properly function and since I live in an apartment complex, I don’t really have any control over which windows are open on which floors. I’m pretty sure the fact that we’re all closed off in our little hutches within, the state of the higher floors would have nothing to do with the status of mine.
But then again, it’s a complicated and mysterious art.
I’ll do my best to work it out on my own with my 2-way window fan, a Vornado, and a Wind Machine, but if some kind of cool breeze magic doesn’t show up soon, I’m going to have to start knocking on neighbors’ doors and asking them if they know anything about dad’s fan theory and if they’d like to help. Maybe I’ll have a cat, some cookies, and an umbrella in tow so they don’t have to ask themselves if I’m crazy.
They’ll just know. ♣
2011: The Summer of Raging Hellflames
2 JunThis is not spring; this is summer.
This is all-out, balls-to-the-wall sweatylicious summertime and I am completely unprepared. It came out of nowhere. One day I was complaining about the constant rain and the next, Mother Nature was using the sun to pound down hellfire heat on my fragile, pasty skin.
I’m not ready for this. Already, I am overwhelmed with the constant dew on my cheeks and the greasy, grimy feeling of my SPF moisturizer. I’m so hot that my legs are sweating. Every so often I have to take a moment to air out the backside of my knees – the armpits of the lower body.
This is my first summer with leather furniture. It was a hand-me –down from a classy broad who gets tired of nice things quickly and I happily hauled it away to my home. But now that my apartment is dripping in sweat and stench, I’ve begun to stick to the couch.
Quite literally – stick to it.
If I’m not paying attention or try to get up out of urgency, I have to do a double-take to make sure my skin isn’t still attached to the chair I’m getting up from. It’s matched with a distinct ripping sound – not unlike peeling the casing off a tightly wrapped sausage.
In this scenario, I am the sausage.
It’s just now the beginning of June and I’m starting to really dread what July may have in store. I made it all last summer without air conditioning of any kind. Dave and I happily hauled the AC out of the window and used a fan, embracing the heat and naturalism. The car doesn’t have air conditioning either, so there was no need to worry about adjustment throughout the day. A trip to the local grocery store, however, required a sweater.
I don’t know if I can do that again this year. 2011 is apparently the year of the flaming, enraged, summer fire dragon and I don’t know that I can compete. I’m too poor and stubborn to kick the AC on, too fat and flabby to frequent the pool, and too modest to walk around nearly naked.
One of those is going to have to give. ♣










