In case you live in Antarctica or have spent the past few months hanging out in a meat locker, it’s hot! Hot and humid. Swamp-like. Muggy. Fetid. It’s the devil’s armpit!

I love whining about the weather, but my Dad told me something today that puts my discomfort in perspective. When he was growing up in Taipei, air conditioning was rare. Buses were always very crowded. In the summer, passengers were packed in like sardines and drenched in sweat by the end of their commute.

“And not your own sweat!” my Dad said.


*One of my favorite quotes from “Spaceballs,” when Dark Helmet’s beverage from the Mr. Coffee machine singes his tongue.