WHEN WILL IT EVER END

I remember 1968 and the popular poster that hung in dorms "The Endless Summer" based on a surfer movie.  This Summer's endlessness is based on the bad weather.

Has it been nice anywhere since June 1?  I know Summer doesn't officially begin until June 22, but when June hits, it's Summer.

For us Zonies, the month of August was the hottest on record.  Highest single day temp--117, average temp 109, and highest low, well I forgot and I'm too lazy to Google.  Count me as a member of the TLTGBIAA (too lazy to Google, but I'll ask anyway).  But all three categories broke records or as Yogi was wont to say, "You can look it up."

I'm not counting the three major dust storms or haboobs they we encountered also.  Granted AZ's never nice from mid-June through October, but it's never been quite this bad.  The Midwest weather has been terrible for almost a year now.  The East, ditto.  Texas, especially West Texas has had drought that's been unheard of.  Memories of the Dust Bowl have been stirred or referred to as bench marks for their weather.

Far too many have been cheated out of Summer and been forced indoors. And I haven't even addressed the natural disasters like twisters and hurricanes and floods that have taken or literally uprooted lives.  If you wanted to know about that,you would have turned to the Weather Channel or CNN--they're good at dwelling anything negative.

Hopefully a good Fall and mild Winter will follow such an Endless Summer II.

AT THE STATION

This is not a picture of the actual train station.  It's been torn down.  But there's a great story about one.

Bob Greene wrote about a North Platte, Nebraska train station where the townspeople totally devoted themselves to soldiers passing through in World War II.  Story after story is interesting about the townspeople who for 5 years put their lives on hold while making soldiers on their way to the war theaters across the world comfortable as they passed through their town.

It's an America no longer here. 

A former Chicago Trib columnist, Greene has written several readable books including Be True to Your School and Duty: A Father, a Son, and the Man Who Won the War, but none that I have read by him is as poignant (I know; I know that is such an overused word and appears on far too many book jackets and reviews) as Once Upon a Town.

Without giving away too much of the book, most of the citizens were, of course, women since the men were off fighting.  They were ready to make the GIs passing through feel at home.  Food, music, company, talk--all were welcomed by the soldiers and when they'd meet others and have a chance to talk they'd remember North Platte with warmness.

For some, it changed their lives.  For others, it was a beautiful time before they gave their lives.

It's a good read.  Amazon or Kindle it.  You won't be sorry, although you may have an earworm for In the Mood, until you finish the book.

IN THE HEAT IN THE OLD WEST WITH AN OLD GUY

That's my story in the nutshell.

There's not a whole heckuva lot to do in the waning days of August in Arizona.  Sweat is not much of an option, at least not humidity induced sweat.  But furnace blast heat makes one gasp for much needed air.

Since the time to buy swimming suits is late Summer and the time to buy an iron is when the old one goes out, we went Monday shopping.  I didn't need a suit, having already bought mine two weeks earlier, on sale, of course.  When you consider where we live and where we go when traveling, a swimming suit or two is a necessity.  Since I don't iron--bless my wife--I had no need to go except to get out of the house.

So here goes a 62-year old off to shop for women stuff.  Bored to death, I discovered mannequin hands can be turned in all kinds of directions.  So  I arranged them to suit my mood.  Oh, not a lot of them, because there were a few salespeople around, but enough to make me think,"What other old guy would be doing this?"  But it was kinda fun spinning a paw backwards, another contorting in a painful position even for a mannequin, and one, who seemed to be stuck up, maneuvering her hands into a gimme, gimme position.

Iron purchased, along with two suits and a cover-up, we left Dillards or was it Macy's?  Whichever store has movable mannequin parts.  And it beat sitting in those uncomfortable chairs near the dressing rooms.

CAN YOU BLOW BUBBLES AND BE IN A BAD MOOD?

Or can you go down a slide or banister and be in an bad mood?  Or swing? 

I don't think so. 

Then why don't we do those things more often?  Do we have to be young?  What about coloring a picture?  Crayons and Play Dough? 

Why are some of the simplest things to do that put us in or change us into a good mood ignored by most?  Is it because they are childish? If so, then let's revert.

Why?  Because I'm stressed.  We have a 2000 Jaguar in need of new plates.  Before the state of AZ will issue them to such an old vehicle, I have to have an emissions test.  When I tried to get the test done, I was told that because I had gotten a new battery yesterday, it had knocked out the computer, so they couldn't read the info needed:  bottom line, our car failed.

When I called the dealership to ask if they could reset the computer, they told me I had to drive the car for the computer to reset itself.  It may take one or two weeks.  Great, since my plate sticker expires on Thursday.

Catch-22 could land me in Tent City.  If so, I hope Sheriff Joe will provide the right size of pink underwear for me.  And please, no lace--it irritates me.  But not as much as the computer system of the 2000 Jag.  By the way, we're completely out of bubbles and live in a one-story house.  Poor me: can't win for losing.