Caving In To The Heat
Well, billion-eyed audience, if you were inclined to puh-shaw my earlier assessment about the most recent "infrustructural mishap" you needn't take it from me, a non-engineer builder.
Check out what BLDG BLOG has to to say with "Infrastructure is patriotic."
It's Geoff Manaugh saying, not me, that "the decaying state of American infrastructure is becoming all the more apparent." Between corroded pipes blowing up in Manhattan to busted levees, the fact is that the United States is coming apart at the seams.
And if you felt any rumbling toward the general direction of Minnepolis, it may have been caused by the audible eye rolling that greeted the President's promise to get the bridge rebuilt bigger and stronger than ever.
Here in Richmond, Vee-A, we're not coming apart but we we are slick with sweat. August has brought full-on torpor. As one of our most famous and clued-in former residents, Tom Robbins, described it , in his own perfect way, Richmond in August is like living inside a napalmed watermelon.
Around the domicile here, Amie and I have an informal rule that if we can manage it we don't turn on the air conditioners until after July 4. Now, for the past couple of years Amie's been out of the country or otherwise away, and has beat the heat by not having to exist in its humid embrace. We take brief cold showers, wear little as possible, open the windows and crank up the ceiling fans. Due to its 1927 construction date and the builder's foresight, an attic fan also whirs away. While the resulting atmosphere isn't quite cool, it is -- for the most part -- livable.
But today proved to be the breaking point. Downstairs now on the enclosed porch and in the nook, deep into preparations for her September 28 exhibition opening, Amie relented. We shut windows and closed upstairs doors and switched on the breakfast nook air conditioner. I am trying to keep up the good fight in my office, but, I think I'm soon to succumb to forced chill.