It’s that time of year again. The time when the sun says, “I’m just gonna stretch my arms out a bit and kiss all my lovely human worshipers on the cheek. Just a lil’ peck.” And we all look at the sun in disgust, screaming, “No, we did not ask for any show of affection. In fact, absence and distance make the heart grow fonder. So, go away, and we will see you next year!"
It’s also the time of year I decide to write an article about keeping your significant other chilled during these months. It’s especially hard on us winter babes who were born in the dark warmth of winter comforts and are being thrown into climate conditions we were not born for. I decided this article would be about how people stayed cool in the "good old days." (Place laugh track here.) I also decided to test some of these out just to see how well they worked. I’ll let you know on a scale of 1-5, 1 being "did not work at all" and 5 being "I barely noticed the sun’s gaze that day."
On with the show…
Back before AC was everywhere or anywhere, talking about the 17th to 18th century specifically, people changed their clothes to suit the change in weather. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary. However, if you were wealthy, you were lucky enough to hang out in your cellar, wearing something that looked a lot like a cotton slip (a "shift" is what it was called). That’s called being fancy! I do this every day anyway, usually wearing nothing but underwear and a T-shirt or bathing suit if I have to open the door to get the mail. I’m pretty ok with it since my poor AC works its hardest to keep just my bedroom at a cool 84 degrees. Rating: 3/5. It works, but only if you have some cool air blowing on you. You can also pretend you are one of the elite, hanging out in your underwear with cool air blowing on you. Living the life.
I’m not saying there are always bugs, but there are always bugs. When it would get ridiculously hot outside, it was probably even worse inside. So, folks would sleep outdoors on their porches (one of the main uses of porches other than to sit out and judge people from a rocking chair). Apparently, there have been a couple of presidents who used to sleep in tents outside or on the roof of the White House just to keep cool. "Woe is me," indeed. I’ve done this before, and other than hearing the buzzing of insects unknown and known, it was always quite pleasant. Camping on your own property like a school kid. Rating: 5/5. It works, so long as you wear insect repellent. Also gives you a warm feeling of nostalgia, of days long past, back when the heat was manageable, and paying for an AC was something adults concerned themselves with.
Unless you lived in the south and had an outdoor kitchen, your kitchen co-exists with the rest of your home. Just looking at that oven or stovetop is said to make the devil come out of his hiding place inside your dirty broiler. People would wait until night or early morning to cook any meals—sound decision. I currently am living off of Cup O’ Noodles. (They finally made a microwavable cup, although I’m not going to lie, I’ve been sticking those Styrofoam cups in the microwave for years, and I’m still alive. I also didn’t realize Styrofoam was trademarked…) I actually had someone ask me in the most concerned manner, “Do you have spaghetti in the freezer? I hope you have spaghetti…” as if that is a normal thing people have in their freezers…let alone eat during hot summers. But it reminded me fondly of my family growing up, my dad making way too much spaghetti, freezing it, and then us having leftovers for hot summer days. It is easily accessible, and no heat from the stove is required, keeping Satan at bay for another day. I hope you all have something similar to frozen spaghetti at home. Rating: 4/5. It does help keep the heat from getting any hotter, but it absolutely doesn’t cool me down, nor does it quench my thirst for a cheeseburger or noodles. Since my kitchen is in my house, I can’t have either. So, Cup O’ Noodles and Cap’n Crunch it is.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t know if I’ve ever been hot enough to want to share frozen saliva with a group of random neighborhood folks while we all lick a huge, melting block of ice. But this was done apparently, and there is photographic evidence. I did not try this one out, but I do eat ice cubes, which isn’t the same at all. I don’t know, man; my rating is just by sheer second-hand opinion on viewing the photos and knowing what I do about germs. Rating: 1/5. I don’t want your swimming, soupy, ice cube germs, thank you very much. I think I’d rather take chances in the Willamette River.
Back in the "good old days," it was all about how to make nature’s hatred towards human existence work with the very thing it hated. Building houses and placing windows in specific directions to get the breeze, throwing cold sheets in water and then going to bed wet, eating nearly-melted ice cream, and sleeping with bugs. To be honest, my younger self would probably not mind any of these things. But being the spoiled, domestic trash panda I am and born in the wondrous winter, I need to be kept cool. Here are some things I am accepting as donations to the “Keep One Cup Alive Fund”:
Cold fish, sushi, ice, ice water, more ice water, soup (I eat cold soup or noodles), ice tea, ice cream, slushies, a more powerful AC unit, a private river area so I can be away from people (they only make the air hotter, anyway), dog-cooling vest for Bob the Dog, spray bottle fan, Korean shaved ice, and more sushi. Always sushi. Cold chicken and spaghetti are good as well—I’m not picky. A cave I can hide and sleep in, a ticket to anywhere colder than 90+ degrees, and alcohol for my nerves, as well as yours. No one can handle me in the heat, sober. That includes myself.
Hannah One Cup can be found peaking out her window, pondering how hard it would be to procure a boat and sail away somewhere in a storm. She’s also considering buying a cow, so this heat is really putting her brain all over the map—just nowhere cool. You can also find her on Facebook by her name.
