Friday, July 22, 2011

How about this Heat!?!?

In the words of the great Denis the Leary “I walk around in the summertime saying ‘How about this heat?’”

I was outside at lunch, turns out it’s about “Melt Your Skin Off” degrees Celsius, which is roughly “Spontaneous Animal Combustion” Fahrenheit. I’m not so much complaining about the heat as I’m complaining about the slacks and dress shirt I’m costumed up in… that’s right, “slacks”, that’s where I’m at in my life, I own them, wear them, and am involved in slacks related activities.



Now, unlike the Leary, my weather wise commentary has nothing to do with tending towards @ssholelishness; That ‘weather-talk’, that dull filler that eats away at the soul and turns the brain to mush, that empty eye-witness rehearsal of what’s outside the window, that conversation that works so hard at stereotyping the weather as small talk… that’s not what I’m talking about. Right now, I’m throwing Big Talk at you, all kinds of Weather Big-Talking, and I’m throwing it on two levels.

This Big-Talk Weather is passionate. Passionate and whimsical, with just a shadow of belligerence. Today it’s Plus-a-Gazillion-Trillion degrees, yesterday the Heavens opened up and threw down frozen anger, earlier in the week tornado-talk themed the story of the Neighborhood-in-a-Blender drama; this weather is not your parents’ chit-chat, this is a new era of front-page excitement. It’s almost like Weather caught wind of its association with Small Talk and decided to up the ante (‘Weather catching wind’ a paradox? Perhaps, don’t worry about the word play though, just enjoy it and move on to the fun of understanding a Gazillion-Trillion as a number, which by the way is pri-ttay big).



Level 1 of Big Talk: Bad @ss Weather. Level 2… I’m not built for this stuff.

True, no one is ‘build for’ Twisters, or the Poseidon Adventure’s Land-Locked sequel, “Sink a City Atlantis-style: no time for Arcs or Snorkels, it’s Raining out here B!tch”, but I am not built for this heat. And these struggles of Perspiration, Rouging of the Cheeks, and a General Need to Complain are worthy of the Small Talk to Big Talk upgrade.


This is not a picture of me, this is a picture of a big fat guy, with a bald head, and an "I'm Special" look on his face. The only similarity between fatty here and myself is that I too need to deal with being sweaty - not this sweaty though, this is 'big fat guy' quality sweat...


So, what of all this? What does thou conclude from said weatheristic tyranny? ‘Work is Bad’. Or, alternatively ‘Pants are Bad’, hence, the Pants, and the Work must go. In head-scratching my way through this dilemma, I quote another idiot of the entertainment world, and resurrect Letterman’s 90’s slogan: “Let’s gooooo camping!”… the saying is also appropriate since the current plan for the weekend is to Go Camping.


But To-Camp is the weekender version of myself’s today version, which can’t help but utter:

Shiiiiiiiiiit, I wish I was hitting the highway today, joining the crew, tenting it up, and getting my Fire Stare on… but alas, these slacks won’t sweat through themselves. Not to worry though, I’ll do my best Mission Impossible 4 maneuver and title my escape plan “Friday, Early-Afternoon, you didn’t see anything (said with mysterious waving hands)” - is it possible, nay… not-impossible, that the MI4 movie trailer has inception’d my mind and made me believe that I believe chapter 4 of the MI series is the most important thing to have happened to the big screen since L. Ron Hubbard invented it, and life, and the Tology of Science? – regardless I choose to accepted the mission, I accept it AND want to grow my hair out like Tom Cruise.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0LQnQSrC-g



Back to Weather, and it’s two levels of Big Talk, and the Sun, and some Fun, and Slacks…

Why was I out at lunch you might ask – other than to take a break from the one-two punch of ScreenLeft and ScreenRight on my desk, and to sweat, a lot? My search for a Ball Glove lead me out of the office and into the Summer’s sun – excuses are a favourite! My glove is a Rawlings, part of their, wait for it, Sandlot Line-up of mitts. Try not to like this glove. No one hears about a baseball glove with ‘Sandlot’ branded into its hide and thinks anything other than “I, like this glove, am awesome!” It’s a vintage looking grey leather, feels much like the Dreams people are talking about when they kick out “it feels like a dream!”, and makes me want to join Brother Webb the Younger in his pursuit of the BigLeague Chew chewing Majors.



I also bought a baseball, for throwing, and hopefully catching – if the catching part doesn’t work though, not to worry, Sportchek has a 60day return policy… BigLeague Chew here I come.

In summary: Weather is running operation “B!tch Slap”, I now wear Slacks, “to-Camp or not to-Camp” is the question matching “yes” which is my answer, Team-Tom and his band of marry Missions can count me as ‘@ss in seat’ on opening weekend of “4”, and I have reverse engineered a dream of playing in the Bigs by getting my left hand cozied up with a new Mitt. The only question that remains is: “Why is the heat on in this building?” The only possible answer: “I’m currently the Laugh at the end of some serious Tomfoolery” (not the Tom-Cruise kind from the MI4 trailer, but more the Tom-and-Jerry kind from the Cartoon by the same name)...


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