and the man sang... nothing's gonna change my world

The hot death wind of summer came by today. It made the trees creak and moan. It lifted trash cans and spread pollen without much subtly. Standing in it was supposed to cool me off, but it actually aided the sun in dehydrating me further. The more I would sweat, the more the wind would dry, which made my body make more sweat to cool me off, it dried, more sweat, more drying, etc. The body temperature rose to a dangerous level, killing off vital parts of my mind. You could call it farm hand suicide. A slow, agonizing death by labor.

I enjoyed the breeze because I have been told to enjoy it. I am reminded of a time before air conditioning when the breeze was the only way to stay cool on hot summer days. These reminderers are generally older folks who love to recall a more enjoyable world than the one we are in now, and they love to share their knowledge with anyone they can grab onto, hold down and force feed the stories too. It's not that I don't appreciate a good ole trip down memory lane, they have a place and time, but it's not when you are suffering from heat stroke.

I am also reminded that the air conditioners of the world are a part of the global warming problem that makes summers on the planet so fucking intolerable. Such an irony is the vicious cycle....

My mother likes her life in 30 below temperatures. Even in the winter. She could sleep in a snow bank and think it too warm. However, her baths must be 9000 degrees. Maybe she's a lizard, I don't know. How people survive in the cold is something that amazes everyone. What did humans do before gortex? Before plastic on the windows? How did they survive? I am still shocked to hear about Eskimos. I get through the fish eating, the nose rubbing, but I lose it when I hear how cold it gets. Maybe my mother is a rare Eskimo lizard...

My brother called from Iraq to complain about the weather and boredom. Two things you wouldn't think someone in a war zone would be worried about, but he is. I guess if our mother is a lizard, making him half, he would be hating it all that much more. Beyond the tales of weather and staleness, we were able to chat about tractors and made bigger plans for his next visit, which I will put on hold, for now, as I don't like to do that to myself. I'm not really good at the long term planning. Things change so drastically and so quickly, that I never get to see a plan all the way through. So I stopped doing it. AND, if I had been good at long term planning, I would have been a rich and famous stand up comic today, and not a farm hand covered in dirt, eating clementine oranges, all day long.

Oh, the world is such a lovely place. I know that it pains people to hear that, but it is. I know things have gotten bad and are probably getting worse. But nothing is supposed to stay the same. Change is what makes it the lovely world it is. I wonder if the people of 1905 were complaining about how they were destroying the world and how much things had changed from 1875. I wonder if they grabbed young men and women and told them of times when there was no gas lighting to aid their way home and you had to ride a horse if you wanted to go to town. I wonder if they reacted the same. Hmmmm...

I wonder if they thought that the end was near and that their President was a hack. Yes, the world has changed, hasn't it? It's funny like that. Always making new things, killing some off, changing the landscape, creating mystery. Oh, mother nature, you old card, you. What will you think of next? Perhaps the elusive eskimo lizards of Norway will die off this year, or perhaps they will see a growth spurt, who knows...

You see... even mother nature doesn't make long term plans.

(and the man sang on)