The year I was born a multitude of magnificent disaster films were released: "Earthquake", "Airport 75", and my absolute favorite, Irwin Allen's "Towering Inferno" with Paul Newman AND Steve McQueen.
The basic plot of Towering Inferno is a greedy businessman and an ambitious architect have built the tallest building in the world at 138 stories. It's soon discovered that the project manager skirted safety specs to bring down the costs of construction. A fire breaks out and quickly begins to spread through the building putting residents and party guests directly in harm's way.
Without a doubt, one of the best things about watching this movie today is seeing O.J. Simpson playing a bit part as a security guard trying to save residents. He pretty much runs around the building, holding a kitty, repeating the same line: "Dammit Man!"
As in, "Dammit, Man! Get the ambulance!",
And, of course, "Dammit, Man! You should have sent a man up there!"
You get the idea.
As in, "Dammit, Man! Get the ambulance!",
And, of course, "Dammit, Man! You should have sent a man up there!"
You get the idea.
I've been thinking a lot about "Towering Inferno" as we've been included in the large part of the nation that is experiencing the extreme heat, known in new-fangled meteorologist terminology: Heat Dome. Maybe it's just me, but this fancy phrase brings to mind a much less expensive graphic: I think of my mom's 1983 tupperware set that included a large maize colored bowl which my brother and I would turn upside-down and use as a jail for hot-wheels, smurfs, and other small toys that we conquered while playing on the kitchen floor. This is how I am beginning to feel. Trapped in a totally low-tech way.
Now, I know, dear Seattle friends, that this seems silly. You've been suffering a monotony of grey sky and wet weather for more than a year. Trust me, I remember it well. It literally took months here in the warmth and sun of Texas for the water that had permeated my flesh before arrival to rise up and out as steam from my casper-the-ghost white skin.
But, Dammit Man! It's hot as hell here!
It's taken me several weeks to capitulate to what resident Texans have been telling us since we arrived. It's Hot. Blazing hot. Hot as balls. Sweltering, steaming, torrid-but-not-in-a-passionate-way, freaky-deaky hot. And I know we're not alone, friends in Colorado, Illinois, and Indiana have been reporting temps that make our mere 102s and 103s seem mild. It's so hot, Tex has refrained from grilling more than once.
The trapped feeling arises from a few circumstances. It's unsafe and uncomfortable to do some of the things I really love. Walk, for example. Long walks exploring neighborhoods is a loved pass-time. Here it's difficult to do because there aren't in-between places like there are in Seattle. There I could walk from my apartment down to the Seattle Center, catch a splash from the fountain, or stop in one of the nine coffee shops for an iced something-or-other, and then continue toward Pike Place Market, where even on the hottest days a cool breeze will reach up from the Puget Sound just when the sun's rays feel relentless.
Here, little clusters of shops and restaurants don't seem to exist in too many places. Those that do are separated by miles of roads with questionable sidewalks, or no sidewalks at all. This is frustrating because I am craving to explore more of Dallas; to get lost in little nooks and crannies of neighborhoods; to discover that lovely little out-of-the-way place that transports the visitor to another time or place for the duration of her stay.
Even so, and I openly admit this, I prefer the relentless heat to relentless rain. There are a lot of ways to beat the heat. For starters, every where is air-conditioned. Our house thermostat is set at about 80 degrees (I know, right?!) during the day. When I head to the store, I hop in the van which cools down pretty quickly, drive under beautiful blue sky, spend a few minutes soaking up vitamin D and breaking a sweat, only to be back in the comfort of cool air provided by the market. And if I can find a parking spot shaded by a tree - even better for the return trip.
Now, I know, dear Seattle friends, that this seems silly. You've been suffering a monotony of grey sky and wet weather for more than a year. Trust me, I remember it well. It literally took months here in the warmth and sun of Texas for the water that had permeated my flesh before arrival to rise up and out as steam from my casper-the-ghost white skin.
But, Dammit Man! It's hot as hell here!
It's taken me several weeks to capitulate to what resident Texans have been telling us since we arrived. It's Hot. Blazing hot. Hot as balls. Sweltering, steaming, torrid-but-not-in-a-passionate-way, freaky-deaky hot. And I know we're not alone, friends in Colorado, Illinois, and Indiana have been reporting temps that make our mere 102s and 103s seem mild. It's so hot, Tex has refrained from grilling more than once.
The trapped feeling arises from a few circumstances. It's unsafe and uncomfortable to do some of the things I really love. Walk, for example. Long walks exploring neighborhoods is a loved pass-time. Here it's difficult to do because there aren't in-between places like there are in Seattle. There I could walk from my apartment down to the Seattle Center, catch a splash from the fountain, or stop in one of the nine coffee shops for an iced something-or-other, and then continue toward Pike Place Market, where even on the hottest days a cool breeze will reach up from the Puget Sound just when the sun's rays feel relentless.
Here, little clusters of shops and restaurants don't seem to exist in too many places. Those that do are separated by miles of roads with questionable sidewalks, or no sidewalks at all. This is frustrating because I am craving to explore more of Dallas; to get lost in little nooks and crannies of neighborhoods; to discover that lovely little out-of-the-way place that transports the visitor to another time or place for the duration of her stay.
Even so, and I openly admit this, I prefer the relentless heat to relentless rain. There are a lot of ways to beat the heat. For starters, every where is air-conditioned. Our house thermostat is set at about 80 degrees (I know, right?!) during the day. When I head to the store, I hop in the van which cools down pretty quickly, drive under beautiful blue sky, spend a few minutes soaking up vitamin D and breaking a sweat, only to be back in the comfort of cool air provided by the market. And if I can find a parking spot shaded by a tree - even better for the return trip.
The pool is another option for cooling down. The one pictured above is the smaller of two pools within a minute's walk of our front door. When Tex gets home from his rigorous day we head over to this shaded oasis and refresh ourselves. It's divine.
And then there are the usual respites from any kind of weather: movie theatres (high on our agenda for this coming weekend), the library, and several museums we're eager to check-out.
Steve McQueen isn't around to extinguish the dome, and the triple digits seem to be hanging around for a few more weeks, and that's all right. While sitting inside, which I'd be doing in the rain anyway, I get to look outside and see brilliant blue sky with more than enough sun to read from while comfortably curled up by the window. And when I want it, I pop outside and feel warmed to my core.
Dammit Man, I'm not complaining.
K.