I’d rather be hot in Port Aransas
For that matter, Texas, USA.
We ventured a few miles inland two weeks ago to attend a wedding and just about suffocated.
Last weekend we visited The Daughter in San Antonio and baked.
I say “we.” I mean “me.” Murray’s comment is, “Kinda nice, huh?”
He makes my derriere ache.
However, even Murray gained some respect for the heat as he replaced a screen in The Daughter’s patio, which, during the heat of the day, is like being in an oven. The security of the “grand-kitties” motivated him to complete the project. After that, even he agreed that any such patio projects would be saved for fall and winter.
I don’t know if it’s really hotter than usual or, if, as time marches on, we become -- shall we say -- more “aware” of it.
I do remember a heat wave about 10 years ago when I heard a customer in a local shop complaining about the heat.
“I’m going back to Dallas,” she proclaimed.
Yeah. It was going to be a lot cooler in Dallas. A nice breeze coming off the asphalt, concrete and glass would cool things down.
As they say, “It’s a dry heat.”
For crying out loud, hot is hot!
At least here we have the breeze off the Gulf, which is mega-degrees cooler than the air coming off parched blacktop.
Of course, that was described to me as like running into a wet brick wall for anyone used to dry heat.
Fortunately, in Port Aransas, heels and hose, ties and coats are not required. It amuses me that anyone, anywhere in Texas has to suffer through such protocol – no offense intended.
Port Aransas isn’t subject to such dress codes, for which I am eternally grateful.
Years ago, shortly after we moved here and still owned the newspaper in Refugio, Murray paid a visit to our banker there. Not even giving it a second thought, Murray arrived in his standard attire: Khaki shorts, deck shoes and an aloha shirt (he adapts easily to everything except cold).
The banker thought it was so great that Murray could come home every day and change into such comfortable clothes and go anywhere in town he wanted. In Refugio, at that time, you had to “dress” to go to the grocery store.
The banker was without speech when Murray said, “I’m dressed for work.”
It’s one thing if you’re in the city in an air-conditioned office all day. It’s another if you’re in and out of the natural and unnatural elements, and yet another if you live and work in Port Aransas.
Frankly, even though I spend most of my days in the office, I ditched those “sausage skins” (as Murray calls hose) the day I started working here.
The freedom of spending your time on things more important than dress code is invigorating.
That said, I have complete respect for dressing properly for the proper occasion; i.e, do not show up in a bikini for a formal wedding; do not show up in scruffy jeans and a t-shirt for a formal Christmas dinner – you get the picture.
I was taught that it is always best to be overdressed than under-dressed. But when heat stroke is a given, skip the hose and ties. After all, this is Texas. And it is July.
So, put on your khakis, aloha shirts or breezy linen and sandals, catch the breeze off the Gulf and enjoy life in Port Aransas.
It just may be true that a bad day in Port Aransas is better than a good day in/at (fill in the blank).