It’s hot


Unless you have been living under a rock, like those guys in the Geico commercial – not my favorite by the way, I like the one with the little pig who cries “Weeeeee” all the way home – you will have noticed that it’s hot. Is hot, has been hot, will continue to be hot for the foreseeable future. So hot in fact, that everyone, including myself, has become a giant cranky-pants monster. Apparently heat cooks the kindness right out of you. So hot, that we decided to cancel our annual 4th of July party. Even though ninety percent of our guest list responded positively, including some friends that have been unable to attend since we started this ill-conceived party nonsense – we altruistically decided to call it off. I will share with you our well-thought out reasons, as were stated in the cancellation email I sent:

Hello my friends,
It is with sincere regret that I write to inform you that we have decided to postpone the 4th of July party. To quote Cole Porter, a wise man if ever there was one, it’s just too darned hot. We are concerned about your comfort and health.
Initially, we concocted several ideas to keep you cool. These included, but were not limited to, sprinklers, squirt guns and lettuce misters – all of which we determined would be appropriate for a 10 year old girl’s pajama party, and not so much for an adult soiree.
Our ancient air conditioner barely keeps the five of us cool – to say nothing of the family pooch. It runs non-stop, yet has the cooling capabilities of two natives with palm fronds. Don’t worry about us, we’ll muddle through. It’s you I’m worried about. Even if I could bribe a sweaty repair man (with a suspicious bulge in his back pocket where wallets are traditionally kept) to exorcise said conditioner, there would not be enough room for all of you in the cottage we bought from the seven dwarves. Again, I worry for my friends.
I hope this change in plans doesn’t cause you any undue unhappiness. If you take umbrage and would like to vent to me personally, you can find me languishing on the porch, like a boneless chicken, fanning myself with Icelandic travel brochures.
We have set our sights on Labor Day for the new and improved party. At least we’ve got a fighting chance in September. Of course we will send out a new invitation (plea) to apprise you of all the important details. If we’re still friends….Please let me know that you have received this sad missive. I would hate for you to show up expecting something from the grill, only to find that the only things being cooked are the plants and grass.

P.S. Those of you with pools have been moved to a TBD status on the friendship ledgers.

I’m not sure why we started this annual stress fest to begin with. Every year we swelter. Are fireworks really that beguiling? Who can tell, what with all the sweat in one’s eyes.

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