By Tim Sullivan
I love October. It’s the best month of the year in Atlanta. We’ll be football watching and Fall festival-ing and for the most part, not sweating. But now that we are safely beyond Summer and the nearly ninety days we’ve had this year above 90 degrees can we talk about the heat? I cringe anytime someone refers to our town as “Hotlanta.” Not because it is so dorky, which it is, but because it is so true it sears.
Did you know that in 1967 Atlanta saw exactly two days that reached the 90 degree mark? I’m not looking to start a debate about climate change because it’s too damn hot to debate, but back then you probably could “Ski Lake Claire.”
When I was a kid in New York my mom would say go outside and be home for dinner. Here we tell our kids to go outside for 7 to 10 minutes or until they feel faint. We escaped to the mountains over Labor Day, but a week later we were back here sweltering on the baseball field. It was one of those kid-pitch classics marked by walks and run limits. Ninety-two degrees but they say it “feels like” 99. I think that’s a pretty plum job by the way. The meteorologists do all the heavy lifting and then swing it over to Dave at the “Feels Like” desk for his opinion: I don’t know guys, seems even hotter to me! Fall ball? P’shaw! Not unless someone keels over from heat stroke.
I passed the innings by comparing the perspiration patterns on my coach’s shirt to the shirts of all the other coaches. I can’t recall who won the game, and I’m not bragging, but Mark and I had less to be embarrassed about than the opposing coaches.
Anyway, the question is what can we do about it? I think we need all hands on deck, starting with the business community. How about Arthur Blank? Since he’s managed to get the taxpayers to foot the bill on the new Falcons stadium maybe he could use his personal fortune to construct a retractable roof over Piedmont Park? Call it Arthur Blank’s Terrarium or something? I don’t care. Just give me a swath of land where I could kick a soccer ball around with my kids in July without feeling like Fudgy the Whale in a frying pan.
And speaking of whales, sorry Bernie Marcus, but we’re going to have to set all the fish free from the aquarium. The kids of Atlanta need a gigantic, indoor swimming pool and you just happen to have one. Outdoor pools are great but when you char the insoles of your feet walking over the hot coals of a pool deck, it’s just not as fun.
World of Coke On Ice? Just think how refreshing that would be! How is it even possible that Ponce City Market doesn’t have a waterslide yet?
Sara Blakely – people exercising on the BeltLine are sweating out buckets of water weight that is so crucial to SPANX sales. You should install those Kool Zone misting fans all along the 22-mile loop. Sure, It’s an investment but by curbing the citywide shvitz just think about your bottom line! (And there is a pun in there somewhere involving beltlines and bottoms yada yada… but my brain is too parboiled to pull it off.)
We’re going to need to elect some folks to office who make reducing the average temperature a cornerstone of their platform. Matty Ice? Maybe when you retire you can take your capabilities for cool to the Gold Dome? And I’m a little conflicted on how I feel about monarchies but if the King of Pops wanted to run for King of Atlanta I’d have to give him my vote. In the meantime, Ted Turner? Would it kill you to invite us all out to Montana for a long weekend? Jeez.