And other tales of sweat-drenched epiphanies.

Before we get start talking about my revelations, I’d like to wish a very Happy Birthday to H.P. Lovecraft, without whom we wouldn’t like to be scared by what we read. Also a very Happy Birthday goes out to James Marsters, who taught us about sexy vampires and the true meaning of Grismas.

So, yeah, my revelations/epiphanies/moments of clarity.

Yesterday was a hot day. Hotter than normal for this summer. I think the heat index got up to 110°F (43.3333333333333°C). I think we can all agree that that temperature is considered “hot”. Okay. Good. We’re in agreement.

Let me also stress, that since my trip to California, where I had a taste of the old heat exhaustion, I’ve been working outside a lot. Slowly acclimating myself to being out in the heat for long periods of time.

That said, I was feeling fine yesterday. Which should translate as “less than crappy”, which is how I normally feel. Crappy, that is. Anyway, I was feeling well enough and went to work as usual. I did some stuff. I looked at some stuff. I made a list or two. And then, it was time for me to go to Lowe’s to buy paint and stuff. (I am repairing and painting some trim around a window. Not important.)

On my way to Lowe’s, I see a fellow pushing his motorcycle down the street. He is noticeably not wearing much in the way of protective motorcycle gear. Tank top, gym shorts, trainers. And he is pouring sweat. He is also not covered in road rash or bleeding profusely from the head. Not bleeding at all. Totally fine. Sweaty dude pushing a bike.

As I slow down to pass him, dude and bike fall into ditch. Dude is now semi-under the bike.

sigh.

So, I pull over to help dude who is now crushed by his bike in a ditch. He manages to get out from under it and is, somehow, fine. I offer to help him stand the bike back up and then subsequently push it into the parking lot of a nearby church, that is conveniently located about 150 feet away. No big deal.

Somehow, I ended up helping him push it all the way back to his (or his friend’s?) house. We don’t make it to the house. We make it to a street near the house. We abandon the bike and walk to the house to get his car, and hopefully his neighbor’s trailer, to move the bike.

At this point, my Wyld Stallyns is soaked with sweat. Literally. As if you had just dunked the shirt in a bucket of foul-smelling salt water, and then forced my upper body into it.

Keep in mind, that this has probably taken 20 minutes. That’s it. 20 minutes in the sun and heat.

Dude gives me a bottle of water and I take one drink before realizing that, perhaps, I was hotter than I originally thought. I got dizzy. My arms and legs got really shaky. My hands started to lose feeling. I was having an attack of heat exhaustion. Right there. In dude’s friend’s neighbor’s front yard. Awesome.

I found some shade and knelt down. I shamelessly removed my wet t-shirt. I poured the remainder of the aforementioned bottle of water over my head. And then a second bottle. I drank sips of water because I thought vomiting water at this point would only add insult to injury.

I’d like to mention at this point, that dude is not doing so well either. Quite the pair, the two of us.

So, I just hang out in the shade and douse myself with water every 30 seconds or so while he gets the trailer assembled and whatnot. All sense of altruism had abandoned me at this point. It was now down to my basic survival.

Revelation #1: When it comes to my basic survival, I will shamelessly be a dick to you.

By the time he got his shit together and was ready to move the motorcycle, because that was still happening, I had recovered most of my normal range of function.

We recovered the bike and got it sorted away and he dropped me off back at my truck with a new bottle of water, all without another hitch.

And then I still had to go to Lowe’s. Because, after all, I was still working. I managed to pull into the parking lot before the next wave of heat exhaustion was creeping up my spine. I needed to properly cool the fuck down. Of course, I ran into Soda Pop in the parking lot. I was happy to see him, but excused myself so as to not die in front of him. I hope he didn’t think I was being rude. I was just in survival mode. And we all remember Revelation #1.

Somehow, I managed to get my shirt back on before going into Lowe’s. (I felt that it was important to mention that.)

I then proceeded to walk around in Lowe’s gripping my cart for dear life and muttering things to myself. Things like: “We are fine. We are just walking around in Lowe’s and picking up supplies for work. Nothing to see here. We’re not dying of heat exhaustion. We aren’t going to collapse on the floor in front of everyone. No sir. We’re not.” This went on for a while.

Slowly, I became a less dizzy, less shaky, less nauseated human being again. By then, I was done shopping and had to drive back to work.

Fuck.

Let me also just point out that I was using my air conditioner at this point. Some of you know me and my not using the A/C thing, but drastic times and so on.

So, I nearly fall asleep driving back to work. Because it is called heat EXHAUSTION for a reason. It makes you tired. I decided that that was enough excitement for one day. I dropped off my gear, grabbed some water and a gatorade, and came home.

Once home, I proceeded to strip down totally. I was going to stop at my undies, but they were still soaked from the sweating and the water bottle dousing. Gone. Get rid of them. Dry boxer shorts for this fella. And that’s it. Just me and my boxers in front of the fan.

It was at this point, that I had…

Revelation #2: Perhaps I am not supposed to be in hot weather.

My ancestors came from Northern and North Western Europe. Guess what it doesn’t do in those places. Get hot. I am not genetically built for this bullshit. And I have finally accepted that. I come, by proxy, from the land of ice and snow. From the midnight sun. Where the hot springs flow.

As Dee Snyder once said, when asked by Congress about the censorship and ratings for albums: “Fuck. This. Shit.” I am reinstating the plan to move to Nova Scotia. If it is too cold for you, you don’t have to visit. I hear the summers are quite pleasant, though.

Yeah. That was my Tuesday. How was yours?

See ya’ tomorrow.

More soon. ~SC