Date: 23 January 2014. The Heat Index.
Guest author Tom on S/V Gone Tropic.
This is the inaugural story for
The Writer's Block,
written by a website guest and real life friend Tom who has a Morgan
named Gone Tropic. Comments are encouraged.
I was working outside yesterday
bundled up in a parka, and the temperature had really fallen. The wind was
howling like a whole glee club of banshees. I was cold enough, until the
DJ on Oyster Radio announced that with the wind chill factor, it was minus
23 degrees. My shoes froze to the ground on the spot. Unlacing my iced in
kicks, I dashed to the car, trying to escape that deadly chilling wind,
losing my socks, and nearly a couple of toes in the process. I made it,
but it was a close call.
Like Cap'n Tom, Skipper is not fond of cold weather. J.
Being of a mathematical bent, I keep
a little calculator in the adventure-mobile to calculate the mileage. I
toyed with it as I sat in the heating car, recovering from my near brush
with frosty death. As I wrote down key figures in a little notebook, I
spied some calculations I had made last August. Hmm. I wonder? Estimating
the humidity, I madly punched in the numbers. Even before I completed the
formula, I began to sweat. By the time I finished, the heat was
Good Lord! As I calculated the heat
index, I realized it was a hundred and five degrees . I tossed my down
jacket into the back seat. Being barefoot, my feet were OK in the heat. I
rolled down all the windows, and rolled up my sleeves.
The thermometer ↑ near the back door came from our 40'er. We hung it in
the cockpit for decades. J.
Rechecking my calculations, I became
seriously concerned with the dangers of heatstroke. Numbers don’t lie, and
there it was, right there on the calculator, a heat index of 105 degrees.
I barely made it back to the house in the sweltering heat. Right off, I
changed into shorts and a tank top, and sandals, lest my piggies become
malodorous with sweat. I checked the hygrometer. My estimate of the
humidity was right on.
Cooling off with a couple of Natural
Lights, I realized that the media were doing it backwards. I opened the
windows. They should use the heat index in the winter when it will make us
more comfortable, not in the summer. I turned on the ceiling fan. They
should save the wind chill factor for the torrid hot summer months when it
is needed to cool us down. I downed another pair of cold brews. Should I
make Obama aware of the potential for huge national energy savings on this
point? My mind was awash, er…awhirl with the ramifications of my
Being a lover of tropical weather, I
locked the little radio in the desk drawer, so there will be no
backsliding. I’m not going to let it out again until May. I downed a
couple more Natties, and started looking for my bathing suit.
© Tom on S/V Gone Tropic.
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