Air Conditioning

As I was lying in an Ambien induced haze last night, I couldn’t help but wonder how is that when your air conditioner fails its always during the summer and on a weekend—or worse, on Thanksgiving in South Florida when its ninety–nine degrees. It happened to me so I know.

Is it something in its programming? Is it someone in China sitting in front of a computer screen laughing at me?
So as I said, I was lying in bed with the ceiling fan on and one leg sticking out from under the sheet (try not to visualize that) and I remember when I was ten or eleven, lying in a similar bed sweating. I don’t think that air conditioning had been invented yet so the windows were cranked open as far as they can possibly go. Like last night, the sheet was sticking to me and I probably had one leg out then too.

Most summer nights I watched the room light up as lightning flashed over the Everglades, praying that after the next flash, I might hear the rumble of thunder. Sometimes I did and I would count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder hoping the storm was moving closer. But…it seldom did. But if it did, it might rain and cool me off!

I never stopped hoping for that rain because anything is possible. Pigs fly right? Of course they do but only at night when we can’t see them. Pigs are a lot smarter than we think.

I just came in from kicking the air conditioner again hoping it would trigger the reset button but no, it didn’t. But as I kicked the traitorous machine I heard thunder. I think it might rain after all.