July 23: In the heat of the day

 And now comes news reports that the world's infrastructure is warping because of extreme heat. Runways in England are cracking, bridges are melting, things are going haywire. We're told it's because engineers didn't anticipate temperatures this high when they were building all this stuff.

I am writing this on a Saturday. Two hours ago, my kid was frolicking in the splash pad at the Paul Rozon Park in Williamstown. When we left the house earlier that day, the temperature was in the low 30s and the humidity was high as a kite. I thought that for sure, the splash pad would be teeming with little kids trying to keep cool.

But I was wrong. The splash pad was empty. For the most part, my kid had it all to himself.

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When summer first started, I fantasized about how productive it was going to be. Kiddo could splash around at the splash pad and I could write or practice my magic. Didn't work out that way. I am now at an age when my ass gets tired if I have to sit on a picnic table bench for longer than 15 minutes. I need to start lugging sitting balloons with me, lest I develop hemorrhoids.* My prostate is probably the size of a lemon now anyway. Yeah, I'm getting old.

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In the heat of the day today, I did practice a magic trick. I've been working on my three card monte routine and I'm so hoping I'll get a chance to show it off at one of the three county fairs I am performing at in August. This, of course, assumes that they all won't be cancelled because buggabugga** is being a bitch again.

Between practice sessions, I read a newspaper story about buggabugga's refusal to behave. Some disease experts were saying that buggabugga doesn't act like other viruses; it refuses to lay down and die once the medical community checkmates it with a virus. No buggabugga continues to mutate, transforming itself into brand new strains that can bypass whatever stuff we've injected into our bodies. 

Also at the splash pad, I called a whole lot of campgrounds to see if they would hire me to do a magic show on the Labour Day weekend. One campground has hired me already, which means I will now look for other campgrounds around that one and I will pester them relentlessly until they hire me. They will not be disappointed because I am a kickass campground magician.

One of the other campground owners I talked to said he would "run the idea by the social committee." He also said that one of his regular campers was a professional magician. 

"I tried to see if he would do a show for our campers and he said no, he's not interested in doing shows like that," the campground owner said. "All he does is corporate shows. He only does work for big businesses and he makes a lot of money that way."

Good for him. But if that cat is going to sit in my audience, I'll put a smile on his face. 

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The other thing I did in the heat of this day was do some novel reading. In this case, my material of choice was Stephen King's The Dead Zone. 

I have read The Dead Zone before and I happen to know it is one of Stephen King's favourite works of his own. I also know that Stephen King's favourite novel is Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes. The Dead Zone has a number of Something Wicked references. The opening scene takes place at a carnival, for one, and one of the characters, Sarah Bracknell, even thinks about Something Wicked while she and her boyfriend, the protagonist Johnny Smith, are exploring the house of mirrors. Much later in the story, a seller of lightning rods drops into a bar somewhere to try to make a sale. This doesn't just set up some foreshadowing for a tragedy later on, it also tips the hat to Something Wicked, which started with a lightning rod salesman. 

I encouraged my mom to read The Dead Zone for her book club, which has been meeting once a month since the late 1970s. I believe that they have had at least two members die on them and that the book club itself is even older than my brother. Somehow, mom took my advice. I think I told her that Stephen King has been the world's bestselling author for years and with her book club being as old as it is, maybe they should tackle the juggernaut at least once. Mom was happy that they did. In a phone conversation, she told me in somewhat of a conspiratorial tone that "I am really enjoying The Dead Zone."

Good, I thought. It's a good story even if Stephen King delves into backstory a little too much. 

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The temperature outside is now 25 degrees. Last night, my kid and I were out super late. Ribfest was going on in Cornwall and my kid loves going on the rides. (He's autistic so he doesn't say "Dad, can we go to Ribfest?" Instead he says "Ride.") We stayed until the midway shut down at 11 and then we went to Domino's for a late night pizza (he ate four pieces) and then we walked back to the car shortly before midnight. 

I was wearing a T-shirt and jean shorts and I was totally comfortable. I like summer nights as long as I'm not trying to sleep. Being outside on a summer evening is about the finest thing in the world. As long as there's no mosquitoes. 

Standing in line at Ribfest, I thought about trying to work there next year as a magician. Will they take me? I don't know. Maybe they shouldn't. Maybe I should keep that weekend free for me and Kelsey and the B-Man so we can just, you know, have fun in the heat of the night and in the heat of the day too. 

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* I can't spell that word ever without spellcheck.

** My pet name for COVID-19, remember?