It’s evidently historically hot in Austin. I didn’t realize this. I’ve only been here five years. I don’t know how it’s supposed to be. This is the same set of circumstances that has led me to consume some very moldy food in my past.
Late yesterday afternoon, taking Fargo out to relieve herself, I noticed two squirrels lying flat on the ground, each under a tree. They looked flattened, all four legs splayed out like compass points, but their heads were moving and soon their bodies were too, because soon Fargo had noticed them as well and was chasing them. (She never catches them, and it’s unclear what she would do if she did. She loves a good dead squirrel, but is a live one friend or food?) They looked paralyzed when we approached. They were not paralyzed. Upon closer inspection, it appears that what these squirrels had done was dig up mulch from a few inches under the ground, spread it around, and lie down on it. I can only assume it was cooler than any other surface they could find. In related news, I burned the back of my arm last week when it bumped the metal part of the seatbelt buckle as I was climbing into the car.
If Mother Nature doesn’t choke this afternoon, today will be the 44th consecutive day of triple-digit heat in Austin, Texas. The weather is hot. The weather is so hot that if we make this ten more days—and forecasts say we might—we will double the previous record. We must double the previous record. But we also must do more than that. We must keep the heat going forever.
To be clear, I don’t want people to die. This is something you have to say on The Internet™ from time to time, because every now and then, people who say things online forget that they don’t want people to die and start kind of cheering for people to die. This is not that. I don’t want deaths. I do want heat, though. Consider me the 100° equivalent of a storm chaser.
It’s looking like the biggest upcoming test for the ambient air is Tuesday, with forecasts currently calling for a high of only 98° thanks to some afternoon storms. We need to get out in front early that day. Score some runs in the top of the first. Get a touchdown on the opening drive. The clouds are signaling their gameplan, and we need to adjust. We must leave no doubt. We must send a message to the rest of the league. I want triple digits by noon. (For those wishing to follow along, Camp Mabry’s is reportedly the official weather station.)
There will come a point—we’re about two weeks away from this point, actually—when I’ll desire cooler weather. I’m going to be wanting some imitation of fall, even the cheap one offered by places like ours, down here around the 30th parallel. But if we have a streak going? I don’t care. I don’t care if it’s still 100° on Christmas. I want 100 days of 100 degrees. I want 200 days of 100 degrees. I want to tell my children about the time Austin stayed so hot for so long that the squirrels outside innovated and began cranking open the fire hydrant and having little squirrel dance parties like at the end of In the Heights. Once the streak ends, it can cool off. For now, though? It’s Texas. We signed up for this.
