The Unfettered Critic – August 2024

BACK IN THOSE HEADY DAYS when groups like The Doobie Brothers and Three Dog Night were but burgeoning hopefuls, one of us Unfettered types harbored similar rock ‘n’ roll proclivities, and wrote a lyric that went: Everybody talks about the weather/But nobody does nothin’ about it (cha, cha, cha). The song’s subject matter perhaps was too weighty for its melody (Don’t ask!), and, in fact, is just as weighty today, if not more so.

The world does, of course, have songs about the weather, heard especially around the winter holidays or the California tourist season. But it obviously inspires more talk than song. We’d wager that even you, Dear Reader, have mentioned the forecast lately. And yet, as our ancient lyric reminds us, Nobody does nothin’ about it.

Cha, cha, cha.

Actually, today’s meteorologists know an easy way to control the weather. All it would take is to inset the entire Earth with Doppler Effect rods a half mile tall and twelve inches apart. Yes, you read that right: every twelve inches, including on the surface of the oceans, leaving our planet looking uncomfortably like Pinhead’s face. (C’mon, you remember Pinhead, right?) So far no politician has suggested that we install the rods and then attempt to squeeze ourselves between them as we dash off to work in the morning. But we’re sure that somewhere one or more is thinking about it.

Our point here is that this summer’s weather is just too danged extreme. As we write this, our local weather folk, Matt on this channel, and Matt on that channel, simultaneously match one another in numbers as well as nomenclature. They’ve accurately been predicting daily record breaking temps, from 111 to 113 to 109 to…you get the picture. “Twenty degrees above normal,” they say. “Record breaking high lows,” they say.

“Arrgh,” we argue.

We’re reminded of once being on a much-needed vacation when our L.A. neighborhood’s temperature rose to 119. Our air-conditioner, set mid-range in our absence, died, not, we suspect, of over-work, but simply because this was its perfect opportunity because we weren’t at home. And, as you’ve already guessed, faced by a flood of similar tales, no repair crew would arrive until three weeks hence. (“Hence” is a cool word. We’re happy to have found a place to sneak it in. Anyway…) We quickly purchased three window units to bridge us beyond the misfortune. Then, after we moved to Jacksonville, those like-new units sat boxed in our garage until Gayle at Expert Properties fancied them for her rentals. Today we’re pleased at knowing that the legacy of a near-forgotten California heatwave serves to benefit several Jacksonville residents. It’s funny how these things work out, huh?

On the lower end of the thermometer, one of us recalls childhood winters in North Dakota when breaking the ice on the water trough at five A.M. for the bellowing, thirsty cows caused the temperature to rattle through the pitchfork’s also-frozen handle and penetrate even the best hand-me-down gloves. The other of us shivers at the memory of early morning trudges to school through drifting snow, and of one insane pre-dawn walk to frozen Lake Michigan with thoughts of photographing the sunrise. Great art, they say, comes with great pain.

We’d originally considered creating this column with a simple list of movie titles that might help you to psychologically cool down. Like Ice Station Zebra, White Christmas, or Cool Hand Luke. But then we decided to distract you with thoughts about the weather to keep you from noticing the actual weather impacting you while you were reading.

Did it work?