NOTICE-THIS IS AN EQUAL OPPORTUNITY TONGUE-IN-CHEEK BLOG.
On a lighter note for a change...temporarily.
The plain Plains in my section of the Plains, was just plain hot yesterday...and I wish I could have gotten on a plane and outta here. It hit 101, according to my car temp thingy. Humidity was right at 70 some odd percent. It was grim dudes and dudettes. Our A/C was working overtime, not to mention using fossil fuel to the nth, no doubt. But God it was just too hot to not use it.
How hot was it? It was so hot, our words melted as they came out of our mouths. We had to stick our heads in the freezer to see what we were saying.
I have a great deal of respect for all those pioneer types back in the 19Th Century passing through, not far from where I currently live, on their way to Oregon, or Californicate and other places of promise at the time. That, I suppose, would include, Utah...beautiful state, fucked up religion. But then, what religion isn't. No, no, no, no...different post.
The people of that time were of a different cat breed. They not only crossed the plains, and desert...endured storms, heat, locust, mosquitoes and rattlesnakes, but they did it mostly in the Summer...in high collared duds, and other modest clothing for the women folks. Holy sweat-sticking-your-drawers-to-the-crack...talk about hot. Oh...and they weren't riding in those ox pulled wagons, shaded by the tarp...they were walking along side. Their belongings were in the wagons. This shit went on for MONTHS.
OK, so these wagons are being pulled by horses. So shoot me.
I will readily admit that I am not of that ilk. I like my fan, a/c, and toilet paper. Fuck a pioneer life. I kept trying to tell the army this when I was a guest of theirs, but, alas they have that Ft. Leavenworth thing hanging over one's head while you are participating in defending the world from the Red Menace...or ragheads. Prison appeals to me even less than bivouacking in swamps and such. True, one could get killed in the army, in the swamps, but it is less likely than prison. At least in the swamps, one is probably not going to get tattooed, not to mention the other thing...the BF thing. You know what I am talking about.
This is a long way to arrive at my point of this post...but I am a long way kind of guy when I want to be. Today is one of those days.
Sooo, it was so hot that it simply didn't cool down very much last night. Even with the air cranking, and moaning, at about 2 or 3 a.m. or so, I woke up in a pool of sweat and couldn't get back to sleep.
I didn't want to boot the computer and get involved with that, so I turned on the T.V. and watched an old movie. It starred Abbott and Costello of Who's on First fame. It was their first film, Buck Privates, 1941 prior to the U.S. entry into the war. High propaganda, with some glaring prejudices regards blacks in the film, but that was the tenor of the times. The plus side of the film was of course, A & C, and The Andrew Sisters. The Andrew Sisters were a musical singing group who were...sisters. They had a unique sound that reflected Boogie Woogie music, a popular genre of the 1940's.
The connection between the pioneers and Americans of the 1940's is, both groups were made of sterner stuff than we, methinks.
This whole post was just so I could stick one of my favorites of theirs (as martial as it is) into this blog. Here it is, and that's all I have to say: