Jesus fuck it’s summer already. Well it feels like it has been summer since March, and I’m not entirely sure that there should be a single date declaring that it is indeed Summer. I simply go by the tried and true method of knowing when it gets too hot to function normally, then it’s summer. I don’t care if it’s the middle of December, if the temperature gets high enough to make me lie on the ground and give up on life, then it’s fucking summer. This is where we’re at now, and I damn well barely made it from my car to my front door yesterday before I accepted my fate and just let the sun finish destroying my will to live, which basically means it’s time to never go outside again until Winter blows in around next February.
As you can tell, I’m not a big fan of summer, though I must admit that I do despise winter a tad bit more, just for the fact that I can walk around outside in my boxers in summertime without a hint of officers threatening to take me down. I suppose that works both ways though, as the rest of the city has no problem doing so as well, along with the random assault of naked babies in grocery stores. It’s just not very appetizing to be getting my three month supply of Ramen noodles, only to see naked baby wang come flying around the corner. You also have the thousands of people who have no air conditioning, thus spending every waking moment of the Summer sitting outside, listening to country music, and hollering.
So yes, I’m not fond of summer. Especially in this city, which just happens to be Indianapolis, home of the most god awful weather in the universe, no matter what season it may be. Fall brings horrible rains and enough mud that it’s all but impossible to walk anywhere that isn’t cement. Winter brings fifteen foot snow drifts and wind-chills of -130F. Spring may seem nice at first until you realize that it’s invisibly destroying your sinuses from inside your body, and then we have that fucking summer… Let’s take a look at a few things that the summer brings to this wonderful city…
Being in the center of the Midwest means that not only are we highly unlikely to ever be noticed for anything other than being in the center of the Midwest, but also that this is what most experts call “Tornado Alley.” The populace around here though mostly refers to it as “OH SHIT IT BLEW THE CAT THROUGH THE WALL RUN YOU FOOLS RUN.” This basically means that we are highly susceptible to any and all tornadoes that happen in the United States. Most people don’t understand how it’s possible to live in a city where 3/4 of it gets destroyed every year, and I’m inclined to agree, but the truth is you mostly grow numb to it all. We’ve accepted that there will be tornadoes, so we might as well just live with it. And we do. IN CONSTANT FEAR.
The damage is usually severe enough to warrant one of those “State of Emergencies” which are nothing more than a thin veil that gives the populace the freedom to loot any store that got blown into a different part of the city. It also gives us enough money from the government to let us rebuild once again, until it’s destroyed next year. Ever wonder why all tornado damage footage from the Midwest looks similar? That’s because it’s always the same place. Over and over. We’re just good at crying and bitching until you give us more money to rebuild it for the tenth straight year.
It’s also fun to watch the nonstop weather reports on TV. When severe weather hits, which is every day, the local news channels interrupt our TV time, and go on for five hours straight of basically saying “take cover” and “we’re not kidding, take cover” over and over again. They also use this time to inform our fine citizens that it is generally a bad idea to shoot automatic weapons at the tornado. Plus, you just can’t beat watching the exciting footage that is Doppler Radar for most of a day. Most of us ignore it all though, because at this point everyone in the Midwest is a capable meteorologist and we’re aware that while you may be able to track a tornado to a large vicinity of where it may be, you’ll never be able to pinpoint where that bitch will be. This leads to a fun night filled with suspense and terror as you pray to all of your Gods that random death will not visit you in the form of 400 mph winds.
I was actually in one of these fuckers a few years ago. I happened to have stopped into local “Steak N’ Shake” to eat large amounts of grease. The weather wasn’t “bad.” There were no gusting winds or live animals flying through the air or other things you would associate with a tornado, so I had nothing to worry about. Except that about halfway through drinking my hamburger, I noticed that I couldn’t see out of the windows at all, and notice everyone had decided to take cover underneath the tables. I decided to do the same, just after I finished watching in amazement as the large, metal bagel that was used as a sign across the way ripped in half and flew into a neighborhood a half mile away.
Once we thought it was safe enough to go back out, it was pretty incredible to see just how much damage a bunch of twirly twisty wind can cause. Things that you generally don’t think should move were snapped in half like some twig, stores that were there before looked like God took a shit on them, and most cars that were on the road before the tornado were now safely through the fronts of what stores were left standing. It’s definitely not something you want to go through more than once. Kind of like visiting Chicago, just without getting shanked.
I’m not sure what it is about summer, but for some reason it seems the general IQ of the population drops a few hundred points when it starts to get hot. Though I suppose this could also have to do with the sudden influx of school kids who are now free to roam around daily instead of hiding in the food court at the mall from the police. Whatever it is, it makes getting around a lot more annoying than it should.
The biggest case for this is of course driving, where the heat has seemingly destroyed any previous knowledge the driver may have had about operating a car. Suddenly four-way stops become go-whenever-the-fuck-you-want-to-go stops, drivers seem compelled to suddenly cut you off, even if there technically isn’t enough room for him to cut you off, and the sheer amount of fun that is having EVERY FUCKING PERSON ON EARTH forget that the turn lane is for TURNING. Let’s also not forget that if any complications arise while the other person is mindlessly trying to kill everyone around them, they will of course look at you as if you have just murdered their child.
The general public overall is not immune to this sudden attack of turning into blithering imbeciles. People seem to forget that starting large, brushfire-style fires to burn their trash in their back yard generally is not a good idea. Also, since parking on the street twenty feet away from their front door seems to be such a hassle, why not just pull that 1983 Oldsmobile that’s missing half its fucking chassis up into your front yard? I’m sure seeing that festering pile of machinery sitting next to my house just sent the land value soaring.
The 4th of July
A day that most of the country celebrates by blowing up parts of their yard, the 4th of July is generally the most feared day of the summer here. While most people understand that lighting extremely dangerous explosives around several other people requires responsibility and careful monitoring, there’s always those few who simply forgo all that shit and light Roman Candles in their mouth while trying to drink beer. The only problem with this in Indianapolis, is that there IS no responsibility around here. By July, the heat has already eaten everyone’s brain to the core, leaving only large masses of slobbering, half-naked drunken fools looking for any legal way possible to blow something up. Some of you other people may think that your city has a similar problem, but it is nothing compared to here. Anyway, there is a very strong chance that the people blowing up your neighborhood are some of the rare people who have escaped this city. THANK GOD FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY.
One of the best memories I’ve had in the last few years was during a 4th of July fireworks show held at a small High School out in the country. We thought that maybe by escaping the inner hell that is downtown Indianapolis, we may be able to not have to worry about someone setting our car tires on fire at four in the morning. Plus, it was a High School fireworks show that many adults and their children attend, so this could be a fun evening, filled with large colorful explosions. WRONG.
It seems that the people who attended the show were all responsible enough, but the problem arose when the people who were setting off the fireworks evidently had no idea you were supposed to point them UP. So the entire evening was met with several absolutely enormous flying missiles of colorful death going off in seemingly random directions, some of which exploded no more than fifty feet above the ground. I’m not talking about the little shit you buy at stores either that produces a few sparks and that loud ass whistle noise that kills your pets. No, I’m talking about fucking MASSIVE shit. Shit that, when blown up directly above your head while another is hurtlingstraight for the opposite grandstands, puts the fear of God in you real fast.
The end of the night came when, I kid you not, one of the fireworks got set off straight into a goddamn fire truck that was BEHIND the fireworks, producing what can only be described as something straight out of a WWII documentary. But only if the Germans had shot a fire truck with orange and pink sparks. Nonetheless, the police on the scene decided that maybe things were getting out of hand, and ended the show without setting off the “grand finale,” which, after everything else, would have left everyone within six miles in the burn ward for months had they done it. Personally, I loved the entire night, but then again, usually watching my neighbors set their car tires on fire produces the same effect.
By far the worst thing about Summer is the intolerable heat. I always like when people say that heat is heat, and there’s no difference no matter where you are. No. Not quite. What you get here is definitely heat, but thanks to the fact that this entire part of the country was birthed from the ass of Satan, the heat here is about what you’d get if you covered yourself with Vaseline every day and walked around in 110F weather. That’s about what it feels like, thanks to a little thing called humidity.
Yes, Mother Nature can be one cruel STD-filled whore. what with all of her crazy shit like allergies, tornadoes, and every other natural disaster that happens here. But humidity is by far the worst thing she has stricken this god-forbidden territory with. In case you’re not quite familiar with the term, or do not watch the Weather Channel twelve hours a day like we do, humidity is what happens when “moisture” gets “trapped” in the “air.” This makes the air feel “heavy.” Sort of like you can reach out and move it around with your hands if you weren’t already lying on the ground, gasping for air since it also makes it incredibly hard to breathe, too. Normally, humidity on an average day of say like 70-80 F is not very noticeable, and can actually feel good since the moisture is cooled a bit. But when you get the temperature around 90-100 or god forbid, 100+, it feels like you’re boiling alive. Honestly, that’s exactly what’s happening. Mother Nature is trying to kill you…slowly.
The effects of the humidity are clearly evident by simply observing the general populace. You’ll know humidity is in full effect when movement is kept to a bare minimum of trying to maneuver a bottle of liquid to one’s mouth, clothes become less and less worn, and everyone’s hair looks like it is simultaneously frizzy and several inches longer because they have apparently been dunked in a barrel of oil. People have absolutely zero patience with anyone or anything. The heat does strange things to people, the most evident is making them highly volatile at just about anything….
Person: Sir, I need-
Me: FOR FUCKING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT NOW
Person: Sir…I’m gonna need to call an ambulance….You seem to have been hit by a car-
Me: Look, why don’t you GET OFF MY BACK and get me some water or something.
Person: But…You’ve lost an arm and are bleeding profusely from your neck…
Me: Jesus FUCK is it hot today…
Yes, heat is the problem. One may say that air conditioning is the answer, but one must realize I am a true old school ghetto gangstah, and live in a neighborhood where most stores’ only means of cooling themselves is one of those warehouse fans that blow your skin off if you get close enough to them. The only way we can deal with the heat is to do it the way every other generation before us has: curse a LOT.
Meanwhile, I will just sit here, my legs melting to whatever surface they’re touching, skin becoming some sort of greasy foam, never driving again because I have to air out my car for eight hours before it cools off to below 200 degrees, and enough bottled water to kill a hog. This is no way to live.
Autumn better hurry its ass up.