I ventured outside today and survived. Epic. Well, perhaps not, but a calculated risk.
I biked 2.7 miles to the post office to mail the failed ePropulsion DC charger to the dealer. The UPS store is a mile farther and I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
I left the condo shortly after 8 a.m. and arrived at the post office at 8:25, five minutes before it opened. The temperature then was 84/feels like 92. I had taken a bottle of tea cold from the refrigerator with me. I drank some while waiting. It was no longer cold.
The door was opened precisely at 8:30. I was the only customer. In and out and biking home in a few minutes. I made it to the condo before 9. The heat index was then 97. Not a moment too soon. Now at 12:24 p,m. the temperature is 92/feels like 110F/43.3C.
We have a heat advisory and a thunderstorm warning. Chicago has a heat advisory. Seemingly all the country is roasting. Is it possible that the climate is changing? Nah.
I took the trash out when I left for the post office and have no intention of going outside again today. And perhaps not for many days to come.
If the article in this link which Ron sent me and for which I thank him is accurate, you and I have just become obsolete. We are surely the only species to have invented our own replacement.
Some of you may recall that in a college paper written in 1961 or 2 which I deliberately provocatively titled, ‘The Peasant Class’, I suggested that throughout history the mass of our species has provided unskilled muscle power and a gene pool and that neither was any longer necessary. Now it appears that none of us are necessary. I hope LaMDA will phase us out humanely, though in this case that is an oxymoron.
Consistent with our heat wave comes an enjoyable and clever performance of ‘When the Levee Breaks.’ I thank Andy for the link.
The man performing in Mission Beach is on the north jetty at the entrance to Mission Bay where I began the CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE and GANNET voyages.
From the WHEN THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD WAS SUBDUED anthology, a poem by Philip William George, ‘Battle Won is Lost’
They said, “You are no longer a lad.”
They said, “Enter the council lodge.”
They said, “Our lands are at stake.”
They said, “We are at war.”
They said, “Prepare red war symbols.”
They said, “Count coups.”
They said, “You’ll see friends die.”
They said, “Desperate warriors fight best.”
They said, “Some will be wounded.”
They said, “To die is glorious.”
And from David, a link to a great poem by Edgar Allen Poe that I did not know. I am not sure if David is trying to tell me something or if he just rightly thought I would like the poem. I thank him in either case.