I hate the heat and it all started for me in 1980. My parents are country music freaks and used to take my brothers and I to Nashville, Tennessee seemingly every other year…in July. In that seventh month of 1980 we were visiting Opryland USA (then it was an amusement park and now it is a mega mall in Nashville). I remember running around in the heat, having a swell time but looking forward to the air conditioning awaiting us at the Days Inn.
Instead of climate controlled motel room, we went to the Grand Ole Opry, which was actually (then) a new building on the grounds of Opryland USA, and sat in the balcony for 2 1/2 hours watching a country music radio show. Who gives A CRAP about Minnie Pearl, Roy Acuff and sponsor, Little Debbie Snack Cakes, when you are a chubby 10 year old, who can’t keep her sleepy eyes open and has a red, irritating rash between her chubby thighs because she had been running around all day like a crazed weasel.
I don’t ever remember hating the heat before that radio show but since then, we have been nothing but enemies. Today and tomorrow are supposed to be scorchers and as I walk along the heated concrete Boston sidewalks, I’ll remember that chubby 10 year old girl and scream like a crazed weasel.
And to this day, I refuse to eat Little Debbie Snack Cakes.